


Out of the Blue

by Embrosia



Series: BLUE [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Heist, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Torture, Vacation, Violence, questionable medicine, questionable science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8098978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embrosia/pseuds/Embrosia
Summary: “I don’t want to catch him. I’ve already got my prize, Vibe."
It's not the first time Cisco's been taken by a Rogue, but this time is different- this time he's the trophy. Weather Wizard has big plans for him, and the Rogues have the upper-hand for once. It's a good thing Cisco has Team Flash looking out for him...or maybe it's Hartley Rathaway he should be placing his faith in.
A bad storm is worse when it hits paradise.





	1. Paradise, Baby!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I've finally built up the courage to post my first work. Be prepared for a lot of questionable science, sexual tension and sweet, angsty angst. Set sometime after the Season 2 finale, not really AU apart from Flashpoint never being triggered. I have a fair bit written already, so expect updates hopefully at every 2-3 days.
> 
> Title is from "Out of the Blue" by Julian Casablancas.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, comments are welcomed!

“That’s not normal!”

Cisco sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from cackling at Caitlin’s alarm. “I bet Barry’s offer’s looking real good now, huh?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Caitlin huffs, tightening her grip on her armrest as the plane dips again. “Barry already has Iris to worry about. Do you know how many calorie bars he’d have to pack if he were to run every last one of us halfway across the world?”

From the row in front of the two scientists, Joe grumbles good-naturedly. “Do you know how much those two are saving on plane tickets? I have a good mind to make them pay for mine.”

Letting his eyes drift back down to his tablet, Cisco tries to drown out the obnoxiously loud roar of the jet engine with one of the many B-rated monster films he’d been waiting to watch. Team Flash had been, at least up until about a month ago, keeping him way too busy to even consider doing anything besides developing new tech and patching up Barry’s suit. Now, though, he had time; he’d be damned if he didn’t catch up on the latest _Sharknado_ flick. _Or not_ , he thinks to himself, feeling Caitlin jab him in the shoulder with one of her exceptionally pointy nails.

“Cisco, Joe was asking you a question!”

Joe tries again. “How do you plan on getting Harrison and Jesse here from the…other Earth?”

Cisco loops his headphones around his neck and explains to Joe ( _again_ ) about the whole _opening a breach_ ordeal. “So, once we land, I’ll just rip a little hole in time and space, and out will pop the Wells family. Packed my goggles and all.”

“Harry and Jesse are already packed. I spoke to them this morning,” Caitlin enthuses, seeming to momentarily forget about her flight anxiety. “Cisco has this…phone.”

“A phone?”

“A phone,” Cisco says. “But, no _ordinary_ phone. Think of it as an interdimensional…actually, you know what, Joe? Harry can explain it to you when you see him.”

Joe seems satisfied with Cisco’s meagre explanation, and turns back to whatever he’s been doing for the past four hours. After a few seconds, the detective strikes up a conversation with his son, apparently unable to focus on anything- it must be the excitement of his first vacation in almost three years.

_Their_ first vacation in almost three years, Cisco muses silently. Wow. He remembers when Dante and him would be dragged off on family (he uses the term loosely) holidays every year, just before Christmas. This was more of a family outing than he’d ever had with his blood relatives. Hang on, did that make _this_ a family vacation?

“I hope we’re landing soon,” Caitlin says to nobody in particular. She has a book in her lap. It’s been open on the same page for over half an hour. “I wonder where Barry and Iris are right now?”

Cisco leans over Caitlin and peers though the small window. “I think I can see them,” he says. “We might even beat them.”

“Well, that’s impossible,” Caitlin says, smiling nevertheless.

 

* * *

 

“Dad, we saw you five hours ago,” Iris groans. Joe wraps his arms around her and squeezes her tight. “ _And_ I got your texts. All eight of them. You know I can’t text when Barry’s running. I’d lose my phone!” 

Joe peels himself away from his daughter and claps the speedster on his back, giggling in that way that always makes Barry laugh too. “And you! You don’t even look tired, son!”

Barry shrugs. “You know how it is, Joe. A quick jog won’t slow down the Flash.” He turns to Wally. “You should have run too- we could have raced. Even though I’d win.”

The younger speedster playfully shoves his mentor. “Sure you would have. It’ll be a good day and a half before I’m back running on this baby,” he gestures to the slight limp in his step.

“Even then, I wouldn’t push it,” Caitlin warns. “You really did a number on yourself, Wally. You have to be more careful.”

“It was Barry’s fault!”

“Hey, no it wasn’t!”

Cisco steps between Caitlin and the two runners. “Cait, Cait…come on. We’re on _vacation_ , so no doctoring or…science-ing. We’re here to chill. Paradise, baby!”

“Chill,” Caitlin echoes. “Yes, well, let’s go and check in. Our resort can’t be far off.”

 

* * *

 

Cisco feels lightheaded when he sees the room for the first time. It’s… _generously_ sized would be an understatement. He hurls his bulging suitcase onto the double bed and flops down, boneless, beside it. Damn, it’s comfy. He listens to Joe and Wally talking though the wall separating the bedroom from the kitchenette.

“This is…nicer than expected,” Wally says. His voice becomes less muffled, then fades away again, as if he’s pacing around the room. “I feel bad. Harry didn’t ask us for any money. Can he afford this?”

Joe chuckles. “Come on, Wally- he owns STAR Labs. Earth-2 STAR Labs, but still. He’s probably got more cash in his pocket than I’ve ever earned at the CCPD.”

Cisco tunes out their conversation and sets to unpacking bits and bobs from his suitcase. A whole week in paradise; he is _not_ living out of his suitcase like some _tourist_. He is going to act as though he lives here, dammit! Piling various pieces of hardware on the small desk in the corner of the bedroom, Cisco contemplates what new idea he’ll spend the week working on. Something fun. _An engineer never rests_ , he thinks to himself, smiling. Hopefully Caitlin won’t find out.

An inconveniently-timed vibe has him clutching onto the edge of the desk for dear life. It’s one of those vibes that doesn’t really make sense, feels a bit misplaced. Cisco stands in front of a rickety beach shack with _Kayaks for Rent_ signed over the front entryway. It only lasts for a couple of seconds. Cisco brushes his hair behind his ears and smiles to himself. He’s not the biggest fan of sports, but the idea of manoeuvring his own personal little boat across the calm island waters has him practically bouncing in excitement.

He swiftly re-joins Wally and Joe in the main area of the luxurious apartment, his goggles perched on top of his head. “Stand back, mortals,” he announces. “Time to pop a portal.”

“Right here?” Joe asks, his eyebrows impossibly high. “Cisco, what if we damage the room?”

Cisco pops out his hip and rests a hand on it. “Oh, of course! Let’s just go down to the lobby. Plenty more room, _plus_ an audience!”

“If you break anything, you’re paying for it.”

“Relax, Joe,” Cisco says flipping the goggles down over his eyes. “I’ve been practising.”

The goggles light up green, and Cisco feels himself drawn into the universe, the _multiverse_. It’s a strange sensation, watching everything turn blue, catching glimpses of time itself, fluttering by as though spooked by his very existence. He’s not Cisco anymore; he’s Vibe- superhero, manipulator of dimensional energy and bad-ass sonic blasts. Creator of portals. He finds Earth-2 and rips open a breech.

Cisco pulls out his slightly modified phone and sends a confirmation text to Harry. About thirty seconds later, Harry emerges from the breech and stumbles across the room with a distinct lack of grace. He straightens himself and turns to the three men. Cisco whips the goggles off and tucks them into his pocket, dusting his hands together. He’s quite pleased with himself.

“Ramon,” Harry says in his usual monotone; except, this time, it’s more melodic, more carefree. He’s wearing a blue and green Hawaiian shirt, knee-length khaki pants, and a pair of obnoxiously bright yellow flip-flops. “Joe. Wally. Good to see you all. I trust your flight was…smooth?”

As soon as he’s finished talking, Jesse flails out too, faltering into Wally, who regains balance for the both of them. The two speedsters peel themselves apart, mumbling incoherently. Jesse’s cheeks are dusted with pink. _Jally?_ Cisco thinks. _Or Wesse? Kid Quick?_

“Harry, _dude_ ,” Cisco exclaims, approaching the scientist and clapping him on the back before wrapping him in a bear hug. Harry awkwardly thumps Cisco on the back a few times before pushing him away and turning to Joe.

“Detective West,” says Harry, shaking hands with Joe. “I trust you’ve been taking care of Barry?”

“The Flash is as fast as ever,” Joe grins. “And with _Kid Flash_ around, he’s finally been able to spend some time with Iris. The two of them can’t keep their eyes off each other. You should see, it’s sappy.”

Jesse smirks. “Kid Flash, huh, Wally? Not bad.”

Wally watches her from the corner of his eye. “Let’s see if you live up to your name, Jesse _Quick_.”

The room fills with static, and then there are two less people. Harry sighs, carting Jesse’s suitcase over to rest by the wall. He then wrangles his own luggage- of which he has _three_ large bags- and wanders off to find his room. The master bedroom, of course.

“And I thought _I_ was uptight,” Joe whispers with the beginnings of a smile.

 


	2. Team Single

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Flash unwind at the hotel pool, though Caitlin can't help the feeling they're being watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd post another quick update, just seeing as how the chapters are quite short at the moment.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Caitlin rounds on Jesse just as the young speedster is finishing unpacking her small suitcase. Organised as per usual, Caitlin had already sorted through her clothes and shoes before Jesse’s arrival- immaculately organised by function, of course. She’d mostly packed cotton sundresses and lace-up sandals, as a promise to herself that she’ll actually act like she’s on vacation. Of course, she still has her medical kit with her, but it’s been neatly placed underneath the small table by her bed. _Out of sight, out of mind, right?_

Jesse’s room is a bit more haphazardly organised than Caitlin’s. Who’s she kidding; the girl is messy. It seems to be a common theme with speedsters- actually, with metas in general, Caitlin considers, an image of Cisco’s horrendously disorganised workroom drifting into her mind. As she often does, she wonders about Killer Frost. Did her doppelganger have a home? Was it as neat as hers?

“Oh! I didn’t see you there, Cait,” Jesse’s voice drags Caitlin from her thoughts.

Caitlin smiles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I was wondering if you’re ready to head down to the pool- we’re all meeting there.”

Jesse flounces about and speeds into her swimsuit and a floppy broad-brimmed hat, panting as if she’s just run a couple hundred miles…which honestly would not be surprising. “Yeah, I’m ready, all good."

“Did bringing Harry through the breach really wear you out that much?” Caitlin rests her hands on her hips. “Jesse, when was the last time you ate? Remember, you should be eating at least- “

“Relax, I’m fine,” Jesse says, giggling a little. “Wally and I just raced each other for the first time.”

“He shouldn’t be running, his leg- “

She darts past Caitlin, cutting her off and looping a stripy beach towel over her shoulders.

“And just so you know, I’m faster.”

 

* * *

 

 

Caitlin can’t remember the last time she’d seen a holiday destination that actually looked _better_ in real life than in pictures. The midday sun, which seems larger and warmer here than back in Central City, reflects off the calm water of the resort pools in an almost irresistible fashion. After dipping her toes in, Caitlin determines the water is the perfect temperature; before swimming, however, she _needs_ to get her paws on some alcohol.

Barry and Cisco catch her attention as they return from the nearby bar, each bearing a tray of exotic cocktails. It’s surprising the drinks have made it this far, what with Cisco skipping along as though he’s following the yellow brick road and Barry cackling at his friend’s Flash themed trunks. The rest of their group are at various locations in the nearby water, a beautiful rainforest-themed rock pool, so Caitlin takes it upon herself to grab the prettiest (and tallest) drink: a coconut and mango ordeal. With several shots of vodka. Lovely.

The two men distribute the drinks as the others clamber out of the pool. Harry has had the hotel reserve a large private pagoda, causing Caitlin to debate whether the Earth-2 scientist will actually have any fortune left at all after this trip. Speaking of, Harry actually seems…happy? She can’t quite tell, even after having known him for quite a few months, as well as his doppelganger- _Thawne_ , she corrects herself- for quite a few _years_ ; the most emotionally indecipherable face on _either_ Earth. Either way, his shoulders aren’t as hunched, his forehead isn’t as tight, and his lips are quirking up in some semblance of a smile. It’s good enough for her.

Examining the team one-by-one… _her_ team, family even- Caitlin realises she’s never seen everyone getting along this well. Up until this point, there’s always been some small conflict driving a stake between them. None of them have truly been at ease since the particle accelerator explosion. It’s like she’s seeing each of them for the first time again. Cisco, smiling- not an unusual sight, but now it’s a genuine smile, his eyes scrunched up as he laughs with Joe. Detective West, not a cop in this moment, but a father and a friend, his attention with his friends and family, and not constantly preoccupied with the safety of Barry, Iris and Wally whilst they’re off keeping the city safe. Iris and Barry, _finally_ together- Caitlin was getting a little tired of Barry’s pining- and they can’t keep their hands off each other. Barry just looks overjoyed, totally at peace.

Joe is distracted by something Harry says, and Cisco makes his way over to where Barry is watching Iris dive into the pool. “Dude, don’t you think you’ve stared at her enough today?”

Barry laughs. “I’ll never get sick of her. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t been watching _her_ all day.”

Caitlin follows Barry’s pointed finger, her eyes landing on a leggy brunette, lounging about on a folded towel on her own, her face concealed by a pair of cat-eye sunglasses. She looks like she’d be Cisco’s type. Cisco looks half-hearted, though.

“I dunno, man,” the engineer says, his shoulders falling. “Not after the whole _‘Kendra: Warrior Priestess’_ ordeal. What if the next girl I meet turns out to be, like, an Amazonian princess? Nope, no more love for me. Team Cisco is team _single_.”

Resting a sympathetic hand on his best friend’s shoulder, Barry looks over and meets Caitlin’s eye, knowing she’s been listening. She thinks this might be one of those ‘bro-to-bro’ moments, deciding not to intercept as the two metas continue their discussion.

Caitlin glances over at the others. Wally and Jesse, chatting off to the side, probably about something speed-related. Jesse’s cheeks are dusted with pink as she plays with her wet hair. Caitlin _really_ hopes they don’t waste any time with their seemingly blossoming relationship (Barry and Iris were bad enough). On the contrary, Harry is still keeping a sneaky eye on his daughter, his brow furrowing whenever Wally takes a step closer, or Jesse blushes deeper and looks at her feet.

“Whoa, Doctor Snow,” Cisco taunts playfully, sauntering over to where Caitlin is stretched out on a sunbed, her loosely curled hair billowing over her shoulders. “Not messing around with those cocktails, huh?”

Caitlin pulls her sunglasses down her nose with one finger and meets her friend’s eyes. “You were on that plane with me. I’m self-medicating.”

Cisco’s brows shoot upwards. “Very well, then. You’ll be needing this.” He passes her another drink and makes himself comfortable on the sunbed next to hers. “Oh, before I forget…did you bring the _secret ingredient_?”

“Secret ingredient? This isn’t _MasterChef_ , Cisco.”

Cisco rolls his eyes. “Noooo, Cait, the _speedster formula_.”

“Velocity? Cisco, I would never!” Caitlin mimes shock, fluttering a hand over her heart.

Cisco is baffled. “No, no, the serum, the alcohol serum! So Barry can get turnt! Wait, you didn’t actually keep any Velocity, did you? Because that would be very bad- ”

Caitlin cuts him off with a laugh and fumbles through her purse. “Of course I didn’t, I was only joking- here it is, go get Barry _turnt_.”

After everyone is sufficiently tipsy (except the two adolescent speedsters, of whom Joe and Harry had refused to let drink any of Caitlin’s five-hundred percent proof alcohol), it’s decided that day drinking plus swimming under the hot sun equals naptime. Caitlin falls into a slightly giddy step beside Cisco, who is loudly serenading nobody in particular. Turning to check she’s not left any of her belongings behind, she almost has to do a double take.

She thinks she recognises him, but without his usual attire, it’s practically impossible. _Probably just another vacationer_ , she thinks, but by the way he’s looking at her, a deer in headlights, he recognises her too. Then he turns and disappears into the afternoon crowd. She must have had more to drink than she’d realised, because she did _not_ just see Hartley Rathaway.


	3. What I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Iris finally enjoy some quality time together, and Cisco's afternoon turns out to be the opposite of what he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again,
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who's left kudos or a comment, it makes me feel a bit more confident about finally posting some of my work online!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, the action will be kicking in soon.

Barry wakes up in a somewhat awkward position with Iris’s soft hair curtained over his face. He doesn’t open his eyes, not yet, instead revelling in the sweet smell of his girlfriend’s strawberry-and-cream moisturising lotion, and the way her body is tucked so perfectly against his. He brushes her hair back into place and touches a kiss to her forehead. She can sleep a little longer.

The studio apartment is light and airy, with tall windows panelling the whole wall that overlooks the resort pools. Barry watches as the first guests make their way down to the water for a morning swim. The beach is just visible over a thick layer of palm trees. A couple of yachts drift by lazily. It’s so perfect that Barry worries he’ll wake up any second in his room back at Joe’s house, the weight of the whole upon his shoulders once again.

“Hmm…Barry?”

Iris is watching Barry from the bed, her eyes squinted against the sunlight dancing through the windows. She looks like an angel, her figure lined with a warm golden glow.

“Come back to bed,” she murmurs, stretching her arms out. “It’s too early.”

As much as he wants to go for a run on the beach, to taste the salt on his tongue as he flashes across the crystalline water, he _really_ wants to crawl back into bed and snuggle up to Iris. He’s waited far too long for this girl. Her wish is his command.

 

* * *

 

 

Due to it being a spectacularly sunny and calm day, the West family decide to take the opportunity to go snorkelling. Barry has never before participated in this particular sport, and it takes him a while to get the hang of breathing underwater. Iris cackles as he treads water and coughs violently, emptying his snorkel. 

“This is harder than it looks,” Barry splutters, pulling the goggles from his eyes and letting them drift around his neck.

Iris treads water a few metres away. “You’ll get the hang of it. Remember- if water leaks into the snorkel, exhale hard. It’ll clear it up.”

Barry instead spreads his arms and legs and starfishes onto his back, letting the rippling water carry him back and forth. Iris removes her goggles and follows his lead. Once she drifts closer, he takes her hand. They laugh as they struggle to stay afloat.

“I like this,” Iris says after a while, righting herself so she’s treading water again. “I like us.”

“I like us too,” Barry grins. “And I like- _love_ , you. I love you, Iris.”

They’ve exchanged similar declarations before, yet every time Barry feels like it’s the first time, like he’s confessing his affection for her in the dining room of the West family home all over again. Except, lately, he hasn’t had the same doubt and anxiety as he did that night, as _now_ Iris always responds with-

“And you know I love you too, Barry Allen.”

 Leaving Joe and Wally to explore the shallow waters, Iris and Barry swim back to shore and regroup with Cisco and Caitlin, who are side-by-side on their respective beach towels. Cisco’s skin is turning an even deeper caramel as he bears his back to the sun. Caitlin, on the other hand, is an interesting shade of pink, despite a thick layer of sunscreen layered over her face and body.

“What, no King Shark?” Cisco rolls over, dusting sand from his stomach. “This distinct lack of metas is setting me on edge.”

“That’s not even funny,” Barry shudders as he remembers being pursued across the ocean by that hideous man-shark-thing. “ _You_ guys didn’t get close enough to smell his breath, think yourselves lucky.”

“Besides,” Caitlin chips in, “it’s highly unlikely we’ll run into any metahumans this far away from Central. It’s interesting how they seem to be staying in the city.”

Iris shrugs, laying out her towel and sitting on it next to Barry. “I guess they stay where the Flash is. You know, some of them act as though it’s a game, trying to avoid Barry.”

“Cat and mouse,” Cisco says. “It makes the loot all that much better when they know they’ve evaded the fastest man alive to pilfer it.”

“What about me, Cisco? Are we still playing games?”

A familiar voice draws the attention of the four vacationers. Barry knows who it is before he even has time to look. He’d recognise that voice anywhere- and, apparently Cisco would too. The engineer is on his feet in record time.

“Lisa Snart,” Cisco groans. “Just when we thought it was safe to go back in the water. I _thought_ it was you by the pool yesterday.”

Lisa peels her towel from bikini-clad body, her lips curving up in an almost predatory smirk. “I saw you looking, but we _all_ already know you can’t resist me.”

“What are you doing here, Glider?” Cisco retorts, sidestepping Lisa in a slow tango as she approaches him. “Following us all the way over here- are you _stalking_ us?”

Barry quickly intercepts the two, Cisco exhaling loudly in relief. As much as Barry knows Cisco still has the hots for Sister Cold, the engineer is still deathly terrified of what Snart would do if he caught them in the act. Speaking of, Barry momentarily wonders how Cold and Heatwave are faring on the Waverider. Without Snart around to keep the rest of the Rogues in check, Lisa has presumably been left in charge. Hopefully this isn’t her being drawn to the dark side.

“I’m here to warn you,” Lisa says, her pretty lips turning downwards. “Mardon is planning something.”

Barry huffs out a laugh. “A Snart warning me about Mark Mardon. Why do I get the feeling someone’s put you up to this?”

At Lisa’s apparent confusion, Cisco takes the liberty of explaining Barry and Mardon’s… _interesting_ history. “The last time Barry took on Weather Wizard, your brother broke into his house to warn him. All we’re saying is that this is a serious case of déjà vu. Ohhh… _please_ tell me the Trickster isn’t here too.”

“Weather Wizard. Cute,” Lisa says. “But I’m completely serious. I tried to keep it a secret that Lenny’s left Central City, but Mardon found out, and now he’s running the show. It’s not just him, either. He’s been pulling together a group, busting metas out of Iron Heights. It’s no coincidence that we’re here.”

“Wait, wait,” Barry says slowly, holding up a hand to cut Lisa off. “We? You mean, the Rogues Gallery is here too? Oh, this isn’t good, this is _not_ what we need right now…I need to tell Joe.”

“Uh, hello?” Cisco butts back in. “Trickster? Is he here?”

Lisa whips her head back around to face him. “Relax, _Cisquito_. No Trickster, not here.”

“ _Cisquito_? How long did it take for Hartley to drop that bomb?”

Caitlin, who’s been hovering in the background with Iris, takes a slow step forward. “Hartley…I _thought_ I saw him yesterday.”

Lisa shrugs, draping her towel across her shoulders. “Hartley’s a smart guy. Mardon knows all about his history at your little laboratory, all about his gloves. He needed someone who understands vibrations. Said it’d make our teams even.”

Cisco shifts uncomfortably under her almost-scrutinizing stare, his mouth opening and closing as he raises his eyebrows at Barry. Barry doesn’t exactly know what to say. Lisa’s implying that she- and _Mardon_ , of all people- knows about Cisco’s alter-ego. How, he hasn’t quite figured out. Nobody outside STAR knows of Vibe’s identity; then again, they’d thought the same about the Flash.

These damn Snarts, popping up in the most ridiculously _inconvenient_ places.

Barry suddenly remembers that he’s the Flash, and that he should be in charge here. It’s not like he hasn’t put Golden Glider in her place before. He raises his chin, squares his shoulders, and moves in front of his friends.

“Tell us who else is here, on this island,” he says. “Now, Lisa.”

“I’ll cut the dramatics if you do,” Lisa counters. At Barry’s sharp nod, she continues. “Mardon’s made for an interesting situation. I can’t tell you what he has planned. None of us know. What I _do_ know is that Kyle Nimbus and Shawna Baez are here too.”

“Peek-A-Boo and The Mist? Oh, man,” Cisco mutters, rubbing his hands over his face. “What the _hell_ have you gotten yourself into?”

“Oh, it gets worse,” Lisa pouts. “Mardon, the _grub_ , has my gun. My baby.”

“Are you saying you’ve been shanghaied?”

Lisa shrugs. “Sure, Cisco, you could call it that.”

“Well, where are they camped out?” Barry sighs. “That’s why you came to us, right? You want me to do my thing?”

Lisa cocks her head to the side. “You? I thought it might be a job for the Flash.”

Barry realises his trip-up, hastily murmuring something about ‘his thing’ being him being a CSI, of course. He’s not entirely sure if she buys it, but she doesn’t question him further. Instead, she shakes her head.

“Mardon has a plan,” Lisa says. A buzzing sound comes from the large woven beach-bag she has strapped over one shoulder. She fishes out a cheap burner phone and glances at it. Her face pales, something Barry never thought he’d see. “And it seems my time is up. I think Mardon is convinced that Hartley and I are up to something. He has us working shifts.”

“Shifts?” Barry goes to grab Lisa’s arm, but she pulls away. “Just tell us what he has planned. We can’t help you if we don’t know.”

“To be honest,” Lisa says after a beat of silence. “I’m not sure what he has planned. It’ll be big, though, and all of you will get out of here as soon as possible if you know what’s good for you. And to answer your question from before, no. I can’t tell you where we’re hiding out. You can’t come looking for us.”

“Why not?” Barry makes another reach for Lisa. “Lisa, please.”

“There are _three_ very dangerous metas keeping watch,” Lisa says, walking backwards along the sand as she talks. “Not to mention that Mardon forced Hartley to rig the place- it’s full of what he calls ‘kinetic bombs’. Took them from right under the military’s nose. By not telling you, I’m doing you a favour. Trust me, you need to leave.”

Cisco watches Lisa disappear from sight behind a row of palm trees. He’s chewing his bottom lip so fiercely that Barry has to nudge him, break him out of his stupor. The two metas turn to face the girls, who have been watching the exchange from a safe distance. Caitlin is still frosty towards Lisa, and Iris just seems to be following her lead.

Barry needs to rehash Lisa’s revelations, if only for his own sanity. “So, the short version. Mardon, Nimbus and Baez have basically _kidnapped_ Lisa Snart and Hartley Rathaway and taken their only means of defence- their weapons. We don’t know where they are, and even if we did, we wouldn’t be able to risk an attack, unless Caitlin wants to de-porcupine me again.”

“Porcupine?” Iris asks. “I…honestly do not want to know.”

“Not to mention Weather Wizard’s planning something uber-scary,” Cisco adds. “This isn’t a freaking vacation. Why did we _ever_ think we could leave our lives behind for a day, let alone a whole week…”

“Next course of action?” Caitlin asks.

Everyone turns to Barry, who’s trying to keep from looking as though he’s in actual physical pain. The speedster looks at them, then out at the ocean, his eyes squinting as he narrows in on Wally and Joe, who are still splashing about in the shallow water. He then looks at his feet and wiggles his toes deeper into the sand, before finally shrugging.

“I don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright,” Cisco says, his head still spinning from trying to comprehend the situation they’ve found themselves in. “I’ll go call Felicity now, let her know we might be back sooner. Meet you guys back at the big apartment later?”

“Penthouse suite,” Harry corrects, “and yes, Ramon. We’ll regroup soon.”

The rest of Team Flash set off to help the women pack and move their belongings to the penthouse suite. Joe had made it abundantly clear that no children of his were going to be further than several dozen metres away from him with three violent metas on the loose, and Harry had agreed, deciding for Jesse that she would be spending the night under his watchful eye. Caitlin had agreed haughtily, apparently not wanting to be left out of this surprise slumber party.

Eight people in one apartment. It’s do-able, Cisco thinks. He punches their floor number and rides the elevator to their floor on his own. He’s just around the corner from the apartment when he swears colourfully.

“Forgot the damn card. Shit, now I’m gonna have to wait for Harry so he can unlock the- “

Cisco stands before the heavy wooden door that _should_ be shut. It’s open.

“–door.”

Okay, either room service has forgotten (in a _five star resort_ , Cisco scoffs to himself) to shut and lock the door, or their room is currently being raided by thieves. Despite his overtly active imagination, Cisco has to assume it’s the former. Maybe Barry or Wally zipped up here instead of helping the girls.

Nevertheless, he’s cautious as he peeks his head through the door frame, half-expecting to catch the Rogues planning a surprise attack. The room is a mirror image of the way they’d left it earlier that day. Cisco makes his way through the apartment, ducking his head into every room just to satisfy his underlying anxiety. Once he’s confident he’s alone in the penthouse suite ( _damn, son! What he’d give for this to be a regular thing_ ), he picks up the pace and steps into his room, ready, but not willing, to jam everything back into his suitcase. He’s not sure he’ll be able to fit it all in the way it was when he left Central, but-

Oh. _Oh._ He’s not alone after all. A shorter-than-average human is inspecting the tech Cisco had left on the desk the day before. Cisco’s first thought is that the FBI has finally come for him, because _fine_ , not _all_ of his projects are technically legal, but they’re helping Flash keep the city safe, damn it!

“Oh,” Cisco utters, the single syllable leaving his mouth before he can comprehend it being more than a thought.

The man turns around. Cisco would recognise those obnoxious tortoiseshell spectacles anywhere. Hartley Rathaway is in his bedroom, looking as guilty as they come.

“Don’t say a word,” Hartley hisses, rushing forward and clamping his hand over Cisco’s gaping mouth. “Keep calm, Ramon.”

Cisco doesn’t have a chance to move, to retaliate, before he feels a very large and hard hand wrap over the back of his neck and jerk him around. Hartley’s eyes widen, and Cisco just _knows_ he’s in deep shit. Somehow, call it his Vibe-y senses, he realises it’s Weather Wizard before he sees the man’s face.

Mardon inspects Cisco for a moment as though he’s the prize dog at a show, hand still clamped over the other’s neck. Cisco tries to remain indignant, but flinches and lets out an involuntary hiss as Mardon grabs both his shoulders and turns to slam him against the wall, pinning him there with an arm tight across his collarbone. The back of his head slams into the wall, hard, and he thinks he might be bleeding.

“This was easier than I thought,” Mardon confesses, his hot breath tickling Cisco’s nose in the most unpleasant of ways. He glances at Hartley and Cisco follows suite. The scientist hasn’t moved, standing very straight and very still. His jaw muscles twitch and tense sporadically.

“What do you want, Mardon?” Cisco growls, hopefully looking braver than he feels. “Who the hell do you think you are, breaking into my room?”

“I know who you are,” Mardon says in his low, gravelly voice. “And you are going to help me get what I want."


	4. Inconvenience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Flash realise their resident engineer is missing, and they think they know who is behind it. Meanwhile, Cisco finds himself in a bit of a pickle.

Wally would never admit it to her face, but he’s a bit peeved about Jesse being faster than him. Of course, Barry was still the quickest of the three speedsters, but Wally had assumed that his naturally athletic build would work _with_ him to leave Jesse in his literal dust. Maybe he’ll win next time, when his leg is fully functional- he’ll challenge her to another race tomorrow. Apparently the speedforce favours string-beans, though, so he might need to lay off the protein.

Jesse notices him standing in her doorway. She whizzes around the room and has packed her suitcase back up in a few seconds, although to Wally it feels like a few minutes. She comes to a halt in front of him, her hair fluffing back out into its natural wave.

“It’s called having a runner’s build,” she says, smirking at him in such a way that Wally can’t help but examine his feet. “I know you were wondering why I’m so much faster. You’re…not very aerodynamic."

Wally scoffs, taking her words as an invitation to enter her room. He smooths out the blankets, which have wrinkled and half-fallen off the bed in Jesse’s wake, and sits down, crossing his legs. Jesse follows suit, swivelling to face him.

“I think they’re sending us home,” she says quietly. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been training every single _day_ , and I’m fast- Dad _knows_ I’m fast. I just got here, and now I have to leave.”

“So don’t go,” Wally says, almost without thinking. “I mean, they want us to grow up, yeah? Act like adults? Let’s show them we can help. Three speedsters are better than one, right?”

“You know what my Dad’s like. What _your_ Dad is like. They don’t want us to get hurt, which is totally insane, because look at Barry! When was the last time he went up against a meta without breaking a few bones? What makes him so different to us?”

“Barry has more experience than us,” Wally says thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on where his hands are fidgeting in his lap. “But from what he’s told me, all three of the metas Lisa Snart mentioned screwed him up pretty bad. He can’t do this alone.”

Wally feels a soft pressure on his arm, and looks up to see Jesse leaning forward. She gathers his hands from his lap and holds them between the two of them. Wally hopes she can’t feel his pulse hammering at breakneck speed.

“Three metas,” she smiles, ‘three speedsters. Even the math is on our side.”

 

* * *

 

 

Harry barges into Cisco’s room. “Damn it, Ramon, where the hell are you?" 

The spacious room looks even larger without Cisco’s gear scattered over the desk, which is exactly what causes Harry to freeze in his tracks. Cisco is a walking disaster zone; everything he touches becomes a mess. There is absolutely _no way_ he’s all-of-a-sudden decided to become a minimalist.

 _Squelch_.

 Harry’s bare feet hit a cool, wet spot on the otherwise fluffy carpet. He pauses, takes a step back, crouches down. Sticks out a finger. Pokes small fragments of ice that are being rapidly soaked up by the carpet.

“West,” he says, mumbling at first, then shouting so loudly he startles himself. “Joe! Get in here!”

The penthouse door slams shut and the sound of flip-flops slapping across wooden floor grows nearer. Joe rounds the corner into Cisco’s room and stumbles as he tries to avoid Harry, who is still inspecting the wet carpet. He bends down and examines the scene.

“I’ve told Barry before- we can’t trust those damn Snarts!” Joe growls. “Get everyone in here. Now!”

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m just upset we can’t stay here longer,” Iris says, forcing a smile. “You deserve a break." 

Barry is the first to pull away from their embrace. “Yeah, well, I’m starting to think the Flash doesn’t get holidays.”

“Trouble _does_ seem to follow you everywhere.”

Barry’s phone trills from the bed, not once, like when he usually gets a text, but several times in a row, like when Cisco’s having one of his rapid-fire pop culture arguments with him.

_Get to the apartment now._

_The penthouse._

_Emergency._

_-Harry_

Iris peers over his shoulder. “Emergency? Oh my God, what do you think happened?”

“Hold on.”

Barry turns and scoops Iris up, running faster than he has in weeks. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so freaked out. A few seconds later, they’re standing in the doorway of one of the penthouse bedrooms. Joe looks at Barry with the kind of expression he reserves for when he’s speaking to the family of a car crash victim.

“Bar, take a look at this,” Joe says, placing his hand on his son’s back and guiding him inside. “This is Cisco’s room. I don’t- we aren’t sure- I mean…this doesn’t look right to me.”

Barry picks up the last piece of ice from the carpet, examining it in his fingers until it’s nothing but a droplet of water steaming into his palm. He glances around the room, his senses tingling and heightened with anticipation. “Look at the wall.”

Joe curses himself internally for it not being the first thing he noticed. “It’s cracked. Look, right there, it looks like…”

A tiny smear of dark red is brushed against the dark stucco where the wall has buckled slightly under some sort of pressure.

“It’s blood,” Barry concedes.

“Lisa Snart,” Joe breathes. “Barry, you should have grabbed her when you had the chance! Look what she’s done, she’s taken Cisco!”

“This wasn’t Lisa,” Barry says. He gestures to the floor, then around the room. “No trace of gold anywhere, and do you really think Lisa could have done _this_ ,” he jabs towards the wall, “to Cisco? He’s been training, getting stronger every day. Look around, Joe!”

“His tech,” Harry adds. “It’s gone too, along with the Vibe goggles.”

“Ice on the floor,” Barry spits, small vibrations rolling off his skin. “Lisa tried to warn us, and she was right. This was Mardon.”

 

* * *

 

 

His head- the front, the back, his temples- feels as though it’s being repeatedly crushed in with a wooden mallet, and half of his face is crusty. Something cool and hard is pressed firmly against his back. Wherever he is, it smells metallic and oddly sweet. 

Cisco knows he’s conscious, probably concussed, though; but he can’t quite muster the strength yet to open his eyes, instead opting to shift his weight slowly to get a feel for his surroundings. He flexes his fingers and toes, finding that when he tries to move his hands, he can’t. The numbness fades away and in return his shoulders begin to ache from being in such an awkward position.

Cracking his eyes open as little as possible, Cisco can see a low, flat ceiling with a naked bulb flickering sporadically. He lets out a loud groan, if only to convince himself he’s still alive, and rolls to his side. He can feel sensation returning to his hands in the form of pins and needles and realises they’re bound in front of him with plastic zip-ties. A weak kick of his legs reveals a similar situation concerning his feet. Running his eyes over his bare chest, he wishes he’d thought to throw a shirt on before he’d been so _inconveniently_ kidnapped.

Voice wavering pathetically, the engineer calls out, flinching at the effect his own voice has on his head. “Hel…hello?”

Well, not like he expected an answer anyways. Cisco holds his breath and heaves himself upwards onto his haunches, swaying for a moment. A thin patch of blood mars the coarse concrete where his head had been resting. A staircase in the corner of the room catches his attention. It leads to a presumably locked door. Another door off to his right is half-open, leading to a small, windowless bathroom.

“Hey,” Cisco croaks again, louder this time. He prods the back of his head and finds his hair has been matted with gooey blood. “A little medical attention here?”

The room is eerily quiet, soundproofed, or maybe just in a quiet location. Cisco thinks he can maybe hear voices floating from the crack under the door. He closes his eyes and listens. Yep, definitely people.

“The…you can’t…had a deal…”

“Not here…in charge now…”

Something heavy clangs against the door and Cisco whips his head sharply ( _ouch, bad idea_ , he thinks) and watches as it sways open, hinges squealing painfully. He can’t recognise who it is at first due to the poor lighting, but he has some idea, prompting him to shuffle backwards until his back is pressed into the opposite corner of the room. His fears are confirmed when Mardon stalks down the stairs and makes a beeline for him.

“Well, this is quite the pickle you’ve found yourself in,” Weather Wizard says, crouching in front of Cisco. “It’s always been you watching Flash’s back, protecting him and directing him from behind a screen. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“How so?” Cisco clenches his fists and wills himself to stop trembling.

Mardon shrugs. “Now it’s Flash’s turn to save you. Only he can’t. He won’t.”

“The Flash has taken you down before. He’ll do it again. A-and you won’t be able to catch him.”

“I don’t want to catch him. I’ve already got my prize, Vibe.”


	5. Boys Don't Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weather Wizard reveals his intentions for Vibe, and Hartley feels conflicted about his part in the plan. Meanwhile, tensions are arising within Team Flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's enjoying the story so far, hopefully things are starting to make sense, especially with this chapter!
> 
> Chapter title is from "Boys Don't Cry" by The Cure.

Cisco opens his eyes, not quite sure where he is at first, not quite sure when he fell asleep, or how long he was out for. He’s slumped awkwardly against the cool wall with his hands clasped together in his lap and head resting on his chest, and it doesn’t take long for him to notice the figure hunched at the bottom of the staircase. The room’s single light doesn’t reach far enough for Cisco to be able to make out a face. Whoever they are, they must have noticed him gently stretching out the crick in his neck and flexing his stiff fingers, because they’re up and moving towards him within a matter of seconds.

Cisco squints at the man, instantly recognising his former colleague (and friend? No, colleague is better suited). “Hartley Rathaway. What brings you down to this cesspit?”

Hartley raises a finger to his lips and crouches in front of the engineer, leaning so close that their breath tickles each other’s noses. Cisco feels his forearms prickle with goosebumps at the urgency in his eyes. The anticipation is killing him.

“Something is going to happen in a minute,” Hartley whispers, his eyes passing over the blood spattered through Cisco’s hair and across the top of his bare chest, and lingering on Cisco’s aptly-themed board-shorts. “You won’t like it, but it’s for your benefit.”

Cisco blinks hard and frowns. Before he can think up an especially scathing response, Hartley is shouting in the direction of the staircase, his voice low and even.

“Hey, Mardon! Your precious little asset is awake.”

The _thump, thump_ of heavy rubber boots emanates from somewhere above Cisco’s head, approaching the door. It swings open and Mardon (at least he assumes it’s Mardon, he can barely see that far) steps through. He doesn’t proceed down the stairs, instead clearing his throat loudly. Cisco only has to wonder about what he’s signalling for another second, before it hits him.

Or, rather, Hartley’s _fist_ hits him. Hard. His head whips to the side, smashing cheekbone against rough concrete. Stunned, Cisco instinctively raises his cuffed hands to his jaw, prodding tenderly at the throbbing skin. His cheek feels warm and wet; it must have split open, dribbling a lazy stream of blood, when it hit the wall.

Hartley is towering above where Cisco is still sprawled half against the wall. He mouths the word _sorry_ , so subtle, before pulling his foot back and sinking it roughly into soft stomach. Cisco doubles over at first, panicking at his sudden lack of air, and when that doesn’t work and he still can’t breathe, he lets himself slide sideways and curl up into a ball, trying desperately not to think of Eobard Thawne sinking his hand into his chest and ripping apart his heart muscles and arteries. He hears Hartley and Mardon exchange a few words, the door slamming shut, heavy footfalls disappearing somewhere far away, and he’s very tempted to never move again.

“Cisco, I’m so sorry, so _so_ sorry, but I had to make it look believable. I think Mardon’s on to Lisa and I, he thinks we’re going soft."

 

* * *

 

 

_“Your gloves, Rathaway. Give them to me._ _"_

_Hartley looks up from where he’s tinkering with his gloves’ wavelength mechanism and rolls his eyes. “Very funny, Mardon. I can’t concentrate with you hovering over my shoulder, so…”_

_The meta stalks towards the desk and leans the backs of his thighs against it, aggressively cramping Hartley against the wall. “Do I seem like the kind of man to joke about weaponry? Nimbus, Baez, and I, we’re a team- this isn’t our first job. You and Lisa Snart, on the other hand…well, to put it simply, I don’t trust you. How do I know you won’t turn around and stab me in the back? This is as much for your own safety as it is for mine._

_“You’ve worked with Vibe, Flash, and the rest of their little hero parade, and I know Snart is soft for Ramon. I won’t deny I need you, Rathaway, you’re smart, cunning- but you’re still disposable.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco cracks open his eyes and grimaces at how pitiful his wheezing sounds. Hartley is on his knees, his hands fluttering over Cisco’s abdomen, cheek, the back of his head, his _heart_. He’s _too close, too close_! 

“Back,” Cisco huffs, managing to pull himself back into some semblance of an upright position once he feels like he can breathe again without popping a lung. “Back- get back.”

Hartley scrambles backwards. He raises his hands in a placating gesture. He’s glancing nervously at the door and back at Cisco, as if he expects Mardon to return. After a few minutes he seems to calm down, crawling back over to the engineer, this time giving him a wider berth.

“Are you okay?”

Cisco scowls at Hartley and leans his head back against the wall, careful to avoid whatever injury he’s apparently sustained there. The sound of teeth grinding together rhythmically makes Hartley flinch and grit his own.

“Look, Cisco, if you’ll just- “

“Don’t talk. Please.” _Headache, headache, headache._

Cisco lets his eyes drift shut, and he listens to the distant rumble of the sea intermingling with Hartley’s steady breathing. Every so often, it sounds like the scientist is about to say something, his breath hitching. It takes a while before he speaks again, and when he does, it’s low, considerate.

“Before he- Mardon- comes back, at least let me explain.”

Cisco had all but forgotten about Weather Wizard in the past few minutes, but now he’s eager to know as much as he can. He readjusts his still partially crumpled position against the wall, not able to stop a wince and small groan from escaping, and shrugs weakly.

“You’re gonna talk anyways, aren’t you?”

Hartley barks out a humourless laugh. “Don’t you want to know what he’s planning?”

“Don’t you know he’s using you?” Cisco counters.

“This arrangement,” Hartley gestures between himself and the ceiling, “is not mutual. So yes, I’m well aware I’m being exploited.”

“Why team up with the Rogues in the first place if you’re not getting anything out of it? Why turn on us? Remember the whole time wraith incident? You’re one of the good guys.”

Hartley wiggles his fingers. “Mardon has my gloves and Lisa’s gun. If we don’t comply…well, you know how he is. He has both of us under his thumb, _Cisquito_.”

As much as he’d like to pretend the only reason he and Lisa are still in league with Mardon is because he’s stolen their weapons and forced them to turn to the dark side under duress, Hartley can’t help but wonder if Lisa wants to save Cisco as badly as he does. As childish and loud as the engineer is (the two of them are polar opposites, their greatest and perhaps only similarities being their wit and dry humour), he’s grown on Hartley- a friend. He could use a friend.

_I’m helping him because he’s my friend_.

 

* * *

  

“You need to take a breath and calm down, Bar. Mardon couldn’t have taken him too far, not without people noticing.”

“I’ve searched every room in this damn hotel, Joe- he’s not here!”

The air seems to become both charged and sluggish at once as Barry continues to pace around the large room, hands wringing together so fast they’re a blur of red. Everyone except Wally and Jesse takes a step back as a surge of lightning crackles across the tripolymer suit. Barry is gone again a second later.

Joe turns to the others and rubs his hand over the vacation-scruff on his chin. “We’re not gonna find him if we don’t come up with some sort of plan.”

“Ironic, given that the only person able to determine Cisco’s location _is_ Cisco,” Harry says, slumping into one of the dining chairs and flipping his laptop open.

“Mardon may be an idiot, but he’s not stupid,” Joe ruminates. “He knows STAR Labs are our headquarters, that all of our technology and manpower is there.”

“Here, we’re unprepared,” Iris chips in. “Central City is our territory. By taking that away, he’s levelling the playing field. He knows we won’t be able to track him or the Rogues, especially without Cisco. He’s probably been planning this for months, waiting for us to let down our guard.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if Hartley’s been hacking into the STAR mainframe under Mardon’s command,” Harry says, shrivelling slightly under Caitlin’s glare. “Come on, Snow, don’t pretend your security is anything _besides_ insecure.”

Caitlin turns on her heel and strides away silently, her eyes glazing over in that familiar way. Joe starts after her, but feels his daughter’s cool hand wrap around his arm.

“I’ll go,” Iris says, leaving the room and scurrying down the hotel corridor after Caitlin.

The scientist is hunched against the wall just around the corner, her palms pressed tightly over her eyes, hair curled over her drawn-up knees. She instinctually jerks away slightly at the sensation of Iris wrapping an arm over her shoulders, the memory of Jay- no, _Zoom_ \- still more than fresh.

“Harry’s a dick,” Iris offers. “He cares about Cisco, about all of us…even if he doesn’t show it.”

“It’s not that,” Caitlin says. “I just…thought Hartley had changed. He _has_ changed.”

“Lisa said Mardon didn’t give them a choice. This doesn’t mean Hartley’s a bad person.”

“Cisco and Hartley have a bumpy past,” Caitlin explains. “But wherever Cisco is, I hope he’s not alone. I can’t lose him, Iris, he’s my brother.”

“He’s family. We’ll get him back. We’ll find Cisco, and Hartley, and even Lisa. I promise.”

Caitlin has spent enough time around Barry to sense when he’s coming about three seconds before he actually appears. The hallway crackles and Barry is kneeling in front of the two women, his cowl messily hugging the back of his neck. His lips are pursed so tight his mouth is nothing but a line.

“Nothing,” he says. “He’s not in the hotel. Mardon must have a safe house.”

Iris untangles herself from Caitlin and pressed her hands firmly against her boyfriend’s red cheeks. “Unless you’re planning on becoming a human pincushion, no more running off. Promise me.”

“Iris, no, I- “

“No, _you_ listen to _me_. We are going to come up with a plan, and we are going to be _smart_ and we are _not_ going to go rushing in.” She pulls him into a tight hug. “You can’t help Cisco if you hurt yourself. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

  

* * *

 

 

Lisa Snart steps smoothly down the stairs, her wavy hair flipped over one shoulder. It’s the first time Cisco’s ever seen her not wearing any makeup- even at the beach she’d had on bright red lipstick and sharply winged eyeliner. It’s the least villainous she’s ever looked. Mardon follows behind her, one hand tucked into his pocket, grasping onto what Cisco hopes isn’t a gun or a knife. Or a taser. Or knuckle-busters.

_Stop thinking._

“Mark, what did you do to my poor baby?” Lisa croons as she stops in front of Cisco and reaches out to caress his bruised skin. “He has such a pretty face.”

Cisco bites his tongue to avoid blaming Hartley because, in all honesty, he knows it wasn’t _really_ his fault. If he’d been in Hartley’s position he probably wouldn’t have done anything different. Dante’s cold, blackened fingers flit through his mind as he jerks away from Lisa.

At least Dante isn’t here now- being held captive is both more terrifying _and_ a relief when you’re alone, Cisco thinks. Nobody to protect except yourself. He can keep everyone’s secrets safe, even if Mardon does decide torture him.

“If you’re going to beat me up again, you might as well get to it,” Cisco spits, stepping back automatically. “I won’t tell you anything.”

Mardon steps in front of Lisa and withdraws his hand from his pocket. He’s holding Cisco’s goggles, offering them out to him.

“I don’t know what these are,” Cisco says, even though he does know what they are. He knows that Mardon knows what they are, too, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? “I’m not who you think I am. You’ve got the wrong dude.”

“Lisa,” Mardon orders, pulling the goggles back and handing them to her. “Put these on him when I say. Ramon, I know everything, and I have for a long time. I _would_ propose you join us in becoming very rich, except I know your kind.”

“My kind?”

“You’re a hero- at least, you think you are. You won’t help me out of respect for yourself, your friends." 

Cisco crosses his arms over his chest, his shoulders hunching tight. “I don’t understand what you want…I build toys, I’m an engineer. You want me to make you something? I won’t.”

“I need your powers,” Mardon says, his voice suddenly very low. He stalks forward and flexes his hands at his sides, his fingertips alternating between crackling electricity and dry frost. “You might want to check the security of your communication system back at your little laboratory- I learnt a lot about what you did to stop Zoom, opening portals to other worlds. Unlimited worlds- endless money. You see, the Flash may be the fastest man alive, but I want _you_ to make me the richest.”

Cisco scoffs and shakes his head. He doesn’t think he can rely on his voice not to crack. Over Mardon’s shoulder, Lisa is making a slitting motion across her throat, shaking her head, gesturing at the criminal’s hands as he powers up.

“That’s why you have my goggles,” Cisco says eventually. He doesn’t bother with the charade anymore. “You know, once I put them on, I can shatter your entire nervous system without breaking a sweat. We’ve reached an impasse, Wizard.”

Mardon’s face screws up in a grin, or it might be a snarl. “You really want to risk it? Think you can take on three metas, a genius, and a Snart? Even Reverb couldn’t do that.” _Reverb?_

As the criminal approaches him, Cisco moves back yet again, starting as his back meets the end of the room. Mardon reaches out and squeezes him around the neck so suddenly he doesn’t have a chance to take a breath.

“A shipment of precious gemstones is on its way to the mainland, overlaying here for three hours. Unfortunately, my intel only stretches so far. You are going to vibe the arrival time and holding location. Let’s call this a practice run. After you prove yourself, we can discuss opening breeches into other worlds. They can’t catch me if I’m in another dimension.”

_Go to hell_ , Cisco wants to hiss. _You need a speedster for that._ He manages to wheeze in a breath before his throat is crushed even tighter, finger scrabbling frantically at his attacker’s heavy leather sleeves. Mardon holds him for a few seconds longer, then drops him, watching him writhe on the damp floor for a breath. Lisa crouches in front of Cisco and brushes his hair from his face. She unfolds his goggles and slips them on.

_Don’t vibe- do NOT vibe!_

As if touched by a live wire, Cisco’s body goes stiff, his face lax, his hands leaving the reddening finger-marks at his throat. He wills himself not to, oh God he tries, but he’s still struggling to conquer his abilities- almost impossible when he’s as alarmed as he is now. He accidentally falls into a blue world.

 

* * *

 

 

Hartley perches with his back to the door that leads down to the basement, under the guise of waiting for Mardon. Really, he’s listening. The room is essentially soundproofed (he blames the reinforced doorframe), but his hearing is better than most. He twiddles his thumbs, feeling more than a bit lost without his gloves 

His ears perk up at the sound of a scuffle, the sound of shoes scrambling against concrete, a dull thud. Someone starts to yell and is abruptly cut off. He presses his ear against the door and closes his eyes.

_“Can’t…don’t have a choice!”_

_“…find out…tell me…”_

Something- _someone_ \- being thrown against a wall. Silence. Another thud, gasping, a low rumbling voice cursing.

_“…control them…can’t control them!”_

Hartley shoves his fist into his mouth. If he thought he himself to act like an ass, then Mardon was a Grade-A _asshole_ , period. He debates going downstairs and decides against it. There’s nothing he can do.

 

* * *

 

Cisco rips the goggles from his face and throws them as hard as he can at Mardon. They miss and hit the floor somewhere on the opposite side of the wall. The room is a funny tinge of yellow after having been caught up in so many vibes in a row.

“I can’t find them,” Cisco heaves, still a bit out of breath. “I don’t know where they are, and even if I did- “

Mardon wraps his hands into fists and cracks his thumbs loudly. Against his every will, Cisco’s voice gets higher, more frantic. He’d be embarrassed at Lisa seeing him in this state; the opposite of cool, calm and collected- except his vision has tunnelled in panic, and the only person he sees in the room is Mardon, and his head is splitting in two and he _can’t get away_.

“I swear, man, I- I don’t control the vibes. They just happen.”

His body stiff, Mardon gestures to where the vibe goggles are sitting on the floor. “You can control them when you’re wearing these, so do. As. I. Say. Or, there will be consequences.”

“Cisco, just tell him,” Lisa says. Her eyes are darker than usual, the skin beneath tinted blue with fatigue. “It’ll make it easier on all of us.”

Cisco shakes his head. He isn’t lying- he has no idea where these gems are, what they look like, when Mardon will be able to get his hands on them. He’s searched, but they just aren’t that personal to him, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to find them. Mardon obviously holds his powers in greater esteem than he does.

“I’m telling the truth,” Cisco says. He slumps to the ground because, well, he has nothing left to give.

Mardon huffs and throws his head back in annoyance, tucking the goggles back into his pocket. Cisco thinks he knows what’s coming, so he closes his eyes and braces himself.

He’s right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. As always, please leave a comment/kudos if you liked, and stay tuned for more soon!


	6. Not Wasting Any Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Flash band together to find Cisco. Cisco finds an unlikely friend in Hartley.

“So, Felicity’s run all of the Rogues through facial recognition,” Iris says, clicking her phone off and turning to where the rest of Team Flash sit hopefully, sprawled at their various stations around the room as they work.

“And?” Joe asks.

“No hits,” Iris concludes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “At least, not in the past few days. Even then, it was only Hartley and Lisa, and only when we’d seen them ourselves. There really aren’t that many cameras here, not like back home.”

“This is bullshit.” Harry sweeps his hand across his side of the table, knocking papers and a glass of water to the floor. He waits for Cisco to reprimand him, but he doesn’t. He isn’t here. “It’s like they… _teleported_ here.”

“They did,” Caitlin says. “Baez, remember?”

“But Baez can only teleport to places she can see,” Joe says. “Call Felicity back, ask her to track Shauna Baez’s last known location in Central City.”

“It’s a stretch.”

“It’s our only lead, Caitlin,” Joe shrugs. “I’ll take it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Barry stands in the too-big bathroom and watches the Flash watching him from the mirror. He can hear an argument brewing through the wall, doesn’t bat an eyelid. He’s fought enough.

“Are you a hero?” He jabs a gloved finger at his reflection, leaving a small smear on the otherwise pristine glass. “Big damn hero.”

He fiddles with the suit’s emblem. It’s slightly scuffed- Cisco had wanted to clean it up before they’d left for their vacation, but Barry had insisted it wasn’t a big deal.

_“How will the Flash impress the ladies,” Barry’s best friend had said, “if his outfit looks like it’s been fished from the STAR Labs trash compactor? Nah, dude, you gotta look slick.”_

_“Come on, man, no work for a week. That starts now, by the way. Patch up my suit when we get back, there’s no rush.”_

_“Hey. Our suit.”_

No work. Huh. If _only_ they were back in Central City, working; they’d have found Mardon and his evil little posse by now. In fact, Cisco probably wouldn’t have even been taken in the first place. Not that STAR Labs is the most secure place, but at least there they had technology at their fingertips. Here, though…even _Felicity Smoak_ , the best hacker in the world (second best, according to Cisco) couldn’t find any trace of their friend.

Maybe he should ask Oliver to fly out. He spent five years on an island, right? Surely he’d know a thing or two about tracking.

“No,” Barry says aloud, narrowing his eyes at himself. “You’re gonna find him. Tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

Joe pulls Iris aside after everything has quelled down as much as it likely will. They go out into the corridor. Iris has an idea already of what this might be about. She’s a journalist, an _investigative_ journalist- it’s her job to figure things out, to uncover secrets. She’s had her father figured out for years, and the strained expression on his face tells her everything.

“We can’t, Dad,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “It didn’t work with Zoom- “

Joe holds up his hand, his face softening. “Baby, I’m not saying we lock him up again, but you _need_ to talk to him.”

“I already did, and we’re doing this as a team. He agreed. He made a promise.”

“You know what Barry is like. He makes a decision and he sticks with it.”

Iris shushes him, worried Barry will hear. “I trust Barry. Cisco is his best friend- he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise his rescue. We’re not gonna tranq him, and we’re not gonna lock him up.”

Joe nods in what only looks to be half-agreement. It’s good enough for Iris; she turns on her heel and goes off to find Barry again. He’s still locked in the bathroom. She taps gently on the door, worried she’ll startle him. He gets jumpy when he’s upset.

“Come in.”

The door unlatches and Iris pushes it open. Barry is sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi tub still wearing his suit, apparently ignoring the neat pile of clean clothes Iris had laid out earlier for him to change into. Iris puts the toilet lid down and perches on top of it.

“You should change,” she says for what must be the third time. “Cisco will be upset if he has to wash your suit again. You know he hates when you stink it up.”

Barry attempts a smile. “It’ll give him something to do when he gets back, then." His face crumples a bit, melting Iris’s heart. “Iris, I’m so worried. What if Mardon hurts him? You know what Cisco’s like, he’s smart and strong, but he’s so sensitive. What if he’s hurt- what if Mardon’s torturing him-?”

“You can’t think like that, Bar,” Iris says softly. “Cisco _is_ smart and strong and sensitive, like you, and he’ll be okay. He’ll be okay just like you were when Zoom hurt you. You both know how to pick yourselves up again. Come on, you need a shower. You’re not helping his cause by sitting around in here.”

Barry’s eyes are wet. Iris can tell he’s determined not to cry, though, not to break. He’s silent for a while, pondering her words, staring at the hand she’d outstretched whilst talking. His legs are bouncing up and down so quickly Iris is worried he’ll wear a hole in the tiles.

“Alright,” he says finally, his voice a little thick from unshed tears. He stands tall and takes Iris’s slender hand, squeezing it tight. “Alright. I’m leaving the suit on, though, in case I have to run. I’m not wasting any time.”

 

* * *

 

 

Mardon’s face is moist with sweat once he finally exits the basement, throwing Cisco’s goggles to the ground beside his shivering arms, muttering something about ‘wannabe heroes’ and ‘useless scientists’. He warns that he’ll be back later, expecting results, and yells at Lisa when she tries to wipe the blood from under Cisco’s nose.

Left alone, Cisco remembers what Caitlin always taught him: _listen to your body, triage, look after your worst injuries first_. He listens to his body, but it all feels horrible and sore and spattered with blood and bruises and bits of wet ice. The zip-ties around his feet have popped apart, having chaffed his ankles raw beforehand. He wiggles his hands around, feeling the sharp plastic grate against his skin, and decides he won’t be getting his wrists freed anytime soon.

Through his hazy vision, he notices the world has fallen on its side. No, wait, it’s him who’s fallen. He manages to roll over to face the ceiling, flexing his legs out. They’re just about the only part of him that doesn’t ache or sting.

The door opens again, so he pretends that he’s passed out.

The footsteps are light, quick, not Mardon. Deft hands reach across his shoulders and shake him gently, trying to rouse him.

“Go away, Hartley,” Cisco croaks, wondering if he actually makes any sound at all.

“I’m not leaving. I brought something.”

Cisco cracks open an eye and observes what the man is holding above him. It’s an old tin lunchbox, a red cross half-scratched off on one side. Hartley opens it beside him.

“A first aid kit,” he explains, digging through and pulling out some bandages and a tiny bottle of disinfectant. “Can’t believe Mardon actually let me keep it. Up you get.”

Cisco is suddenly upright, his vision swaying as he swallows down a sudden wave of burning nausea. Hartley props him up against the wall and scoops his hair away from his eyes, careful to avoid the long, crusted cuts along his cheek and forehead. Cisco lets his eyes droop shut and hisses as Hartley prods at his face and stings him with antiseptic.

“Hey, no sleeping,” Hartley says, a little urgently, a little too far away. A hand pats at Cisco’s face, so he opens his eyes again. “That’s it.”                                                                             

“I thought Baez was the nurse,” Cisco grumbles hoarsely. “Using the term loosely.”

Hartley scoffs, feigning offence, but a short smile still creeps onto his face. “I’m doing a good job. You probably won’t even scar. Why is your nose still bleeding?”

“A real nurse would know why,” Cisco says. He flinches away from Hartley’s hand at a particularly painful touch. “I probably vibed one too many dimensions.”

Hartley rips one of the bandages into smaller pieces and presses it under Cisco’s nose. He waits until the engineer his hands to keep it there, then returns to assessing the rest of the wounds. “Speaking of, Mardon thinks you’re lying to him. Are you?”

Cisco pushes him away weakly. “No.”

The floor is a mess, Hartley notices, as he drops the bloody rags beside him. There must be a leak somewhere, the floor damp in patches. Maybe Mardon went a little crazy with his ice. He nudges Cisco, who’s started to drop off again, once he’s run out of bandages, and throws him a too-big white t-shirt.

“I can’t get this on,” Cisco says, holding up his bound hands.

Hartley checks over his shoulder and, when satisfied they’re still the only ones in the room, pulls a pen-knife from his jacket and cuts the plastic ties. He lets Cisco tug the shirt over his head and rub gingerly at his chafed skin, before a taking a new tie from the half-empty packet Mardon had left behind. Cisco makes a face, but he’s doesn’t bother struggling- they’re looser than before, not digging into his swollen skin as much.

“Does that feel any better?”

Cisco just looks at him.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?”

“I think I split my head open.”

Hartley prods through the other’s tangled hair until he hears a wince. “You did, but it’s not too bad, doesn’t look like it’d need stitches or anything. No more bleeding. I can’t stick a Band-Aid on it unless I shave half your hair off, though, so you’re out of luck.”

“I think I’m concussed,” Cisco groans, slipping sideways down the wall. He looks at his own hands, then at Hartley’s bloody fingers. Gross. He feels weak, the edges of his vision seeming to close in on him. “I think I’m gonna hurl.”

Then, suddenly, he’s on his back again, his head cushioned by something soft. It feels nice, better than the bare floor. He wraps his hand gingerly around his throat, feeling sore spots where Mardon had dug his fingers in too hard earlier.

“This incident never happened,” Hartley warns. “And if you throw up on me, I’m telling Mardon you tried to kill me, and then I won’t be bringing you any more nice presents.”

What incident? _Oh_.

Cisco opens his eyes to see Hartley towering over him, looking everywhere but his eyes. His head is resting comfortably on the scientist’s lap. At this point, Cisco could have his head on the lap of Mark Mardon himself and not worry, it’s aching so bad.

“You don’t hate me,” Cisco murmurs, slurring a bit.

“No, I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've been writing like crazy lately, and I thought I might as well upload every day for the time being.
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who has left kudos or commented, it really brightens my day! :)


	7. Caught Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry makes a dangerous decision behind Team Flash's back which may hinder Cisco's rescue.

“You get some sleep, Bar,” Joe says, pulling his son into a familiar hug. 

Barry follows Iris into the room Cisco was supposed to be staying in. He ditches his suit and pulls on a pair of cotton sweatpants, climbing into the bed and arranging a tall pile of pillows behind him. Iris eyes him curiously.

“You’re not going to sleep? You need rest, Barry. You can’t function on no fuel.”

“I will soon,” he insists, switching his tablet to silent mode. “I just have to go over a few things first. You go to sleep.”

“As long as you promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t.”

Iris sighs and gives him a slow, tender kiss, before turning off her lamp and rolling over, pulling the blanket over her head to dampen the glow of Barry’s screen. He watches as the sheets rise and fall, becoming more steady as she drifts towards sleep. He’s tired too, but he won’t sleep just yet.

After he’s sure she won’t wake up, Barry climbs out of bed and moves across the room at a painstakingly-slow pace for a speedster. He flips the lock on the bedroom door and changes back into his suit, gritting his teeth as the zipper creaks. Iris shifts, but doesn’t wake.

He locks himself in the ensuite and takes a final look at himself, twisting the emblem on his suit and pulling it off to remove the GPS tracker. “Big damn hero, Barry. Let’s do this.”

He squeezes out the bathroom window and almost becomes wedged halfway. He thanks his lucky stars, not for the first time, that he doesn’t have Oliver’s body. Once he’s dangling from the frame outside, several floors up, he swings to build momentum and easily dashes down the side of the resort building. It’s dark out, and whilst he can hear the thrum of voices coming from the nearby pools, he had been _very_ careful not to allow any lightning to escape. If people knew the Flash was here, and not protecting Central City as usual, there would be hell to pay in more than one place.

Barry jogs towards the beach and goes over his plan once again, aloud, so he’ll remember. “Search every building until I find Cisco.” Okay, so maybe there _isn’t_ actually much to remember at all.

He’s careful at first, overly cautious of staying in the shadows, not exerting too much energy, and definitely, _definitely_ not using his lightning. He searches a few places; older, smaller hotels, wooden shacks advertising the sale of ice-creams, magazines and sunblock. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

It’s when he’s been running for an hour that he notices he’s vibrating with anxiety. Small waves of yellow flicker across his arms and legs. At first, he tries to control it, sucking in a long, cool breath and grounding his feet flat on the ground.

“Keep cool, Flash,” he says, reminding himself of his capable alter-ego. “You got this.”

After a bit, Barry reasons that if he can’t control the lightning dancing across his skin, he might as well put it to good use. So, digging his heels into the smooth sand, flexing his toes and cricking his neck, he taps into the speedforce, for real this time, and he’s off like a supersonic bullet.

Still no sign of Cisco, but at least now he’s covering a hell of a lot more distance. He comes to a stop outside a freshly-painted kayak rental barn, so close to the beach that sand is scattered over the wooden patio. It looks big, and he bets it’s even bigger on the inside. Strangely, unlike most of the other rental shacks in the area, there are almost no sandy footprints leading up to or away from the front door. He circles the building once, inspecting every footprint he _does_ find.

Small, narrow shoeprints lead around the side of the shack. They aren’t in a regular pattern, though. There are about thirty feet between each pair. Barry remembers a nature documentary he watched on kangaroos, and thinks of a few nicknames for Peek-A-Boo that might suit her a bit better.

“Baez,” Barry breathes to himself. He feels a thrill of excitement. He’s found their hideout.

The excitement doesn’t last, though, as Lisa’s words echo in his ears.

_Kinetic bombs_.

He hadn’t thought this far, to be honest. It’s okay though, he reasons, because he can head back to the resort and tell the others. They’ll figure out how to rescue Cisco without Barry having to use his speed.

Should he go back?

He’s here now, and probably within literal metres of his best friend, who could be injured. He could be dead ( _no, don’t think like that, Cisco is fine, he has to be_ ). He could always slip in, quietly, at least stake out the place…it is night-time, after all, and he might not get another opportunity like this. A hero would save his friend.

As if punctuating his decision, a very faint cry comes from…beneath him? It’s a sound Barry has heard many times before- when they’re training together, when the engineer is surprised. When he’s hurt.

“Cisco,” Barry says, and he rounds on the front door, jiggling the handle quietly until it opens.

Stepping inside, he sees what Lisa meant. Several small cubes are visible from where he stands. The last time he saw one, it was in Eiling’s grubby old hand. Thanks god he doesn’t scar. Observing the room, Barry sees nothing else of interest. A television hums faintly in the background. He recognises Mardon and Baez’s voices coming from somewhere off to the left.

The noise he’d heard, it’d come from underneath him, probably some sort of basement. Finding an entrance shouldn’t be too difficult. Barry crosses his fingers and hopes that Mardon and Baez will stay put. He steps behind the counter, peers behind a few kayaks that are on display. His search is fruitless, so he steps through the doorway towards the back of the room, ignoring the _Employees Only_ sign stapled above him, and turns right.

The sound, there it is again, but more muffled this time. As if Cisco is trying to keep quiet. Barry grows more desperate to reach his friend, wincing as the floorboards creak under him. Nothing. The next room looks empty as well, but- there! A door, with a conveniently placed down-pointing arrow painted above it.

Bingo.

Barry flashes over, realising too late what he’s done. One of the kinetic bombs has been crudely taped to the right of the doorway. A second later it’s gone. Another second passes, and he feels the pain.

Barry gasps a few times; his body is slow to register the extent of the agony. It grows, white-hot, his skin realising that it’s jammed with thick metal needles. He falls to his knees, clenches his fists, and screams.

 

* * *

 

“Damn it!” Hartley jerks away from a woozy Cisco at the sound of Barry’s wail, abandoning him on the floor. “He’s here.”

Cisco reacts slower, blinking as he sits up again. “Who’s here?”

“The Flash,” Hartley spits, running in a small circle, pulling at his hair. He starts towards the staircase, but the door opens before he can get close.

A body slumps halfway down the staircase, coming to a heavy rest sprawled across several steps. Mardon looms above with an interesting expression, one Hartley has never seen before.

“I wasn’t expecting him to find us so soon,” the criminal says. “And the man under the mask…well, I _definitely_ wasn’t expecting to see one of Central City’s resident CSI’s, let alone Detective West’s adopted son- _and_ without the GPS tracker in his suit. This will make for some excitement. Come, Hartley, let’s leave Vibe and the Flash alone…for now.”

Hartley glances at Cisco, who’s watching the scene with heavy-lidded eyes. “Mardon, I can’t. Cis- Vibe, he’s concussed. If he falls asleep, it could complicate matters. The brain shouldn’t be fooled around with, much less in his case.”

Mardon shrugs and leaves, slamming the door.

“Barry,” Hartley hisses, scurrying and tripping up the staircase. “Are you okay? Is it- oh, no- “

Hartley flusters around Barry’s body, not quite trusting himself to remove any of the long spikes without passing out himself. Barry moans underneath him, and he realises the speedster is still conscious, his hands bound together in the same fashion as Cisco’s. Mardon seems to have abandoned the idea of binding his prisoners’ ankles together, a small victory for Hartley- he doesn’t know how he’d manage to get Barry down the stairs otherwise.

“Get them out,” Barry grunts, struggling to shift into an upright position. “Out.”

“I’m not, I don’t- “

“Pull ‘em out! Now!”

Hartley had experienced enough panic attacks himself to recognise the onset, even in another person. This is the binary opposite of the situations Hartley usually finds himself _one-two-breath_ -ing in, the musty club bathrooms he curls up in to ward off his obsessive thoughts. He briefly wonders if he should coach Barry through some mindfulness techniques, but he’s warped back to reality by a long, low groan and a sob.

Barry has one of the needles in between his gloved, and now blood-stained fingers, his neck dribbling blood. It clatters to the ground and the injured speedster stifles another moan as he grips weakly onto another one, panting as he wheedles it from his puckered skin.

“Let’s get you downstairs,” Hartley hears himself saying, impressing himself with how calm he sounds. “Then we’ll worry about that.”

“Get them out,” Barry gasps, “before they heal inside me.”

“I know.”

Barry yelps and tries to curl in on himself as Hartley wraps an arm under his shoulders and lifts. They struggle down the stairs, not stopping until Hartley has Barry propped up next to Cisco.

“Cisco,” Barry says, noticing his friend for the first time through the fog of pain. “I found you.”

Cisco kneels unsteadily beside him and they clasp hands. “I knew you’d come, man. What…what the hell happened to you?”

“Got busted try’na save your ass."

Hartley begins to pluck Barry, who flinches away and moans miserably with the removal of each piece of metal. As much as it hurts, Cisco lets Barry crush his hand, because what’s a little more pain?

“Mardon had me rig up the bombs with motion sensors. Anything moving faster than two hundred miles an hour will set them off, and, well, the rest is history. At least your wounds aren’t bleeding too much,” Hartley says dryly. “You should survive.”

Barry sniffs. “Yeah, well, at least I heal fast.” He casts a guilty look in Cisco’s direction, eyes hovering over his definitely not-as-fast-healing wounds.

“I’m fine,” Cisco says, swivelling to lean against the wall next to Barry, shoulders bumping. “Better now you’re here, cos we’re gonna take down Mardon. Team Flash can track us here and rescue us.”

“No GPS,” Barry looks down at his chest, an empty circle where his emblem usually sits. “Took it off, didn’t want them to follow me.”

Cisco grits his teeth and lets out a huff of annoyance. “Well, that’s just what I wanted to hear.”

Hartley pokes at the weeping holes along Barry’s collarbone. “Uh, about that healing factor…not really seeing any evidence of it.”

“I’m fine,” Barry insists, although he sounds anything but. “I dunno, Mardon slapped this thing around my neck though…might’ve stuffed up my powers.”

“Power suppressor,” Cisco mumbles, gesturing vaguely at a band of dark metal around Barry’s neckline, so thin they hadn’t noticed it earlier. A tiny red light, about the size of a pin, glares back at him. “No speed, no Flash.”

“Don’t bother trying to get it off,” Hartley adds. He’s seen Mardon toying with it before, and knows the criminal is the only one who knows how to unclasp it. He could probably work it out himself, if he had more time and the correct tools. “You can’t.”

 

* * *

 

Iris is in a state of pleasure when she wakes up, cuddled between soft Egyptian cotton sheets. She frowns when she can’t feel Barry pressed up against her- he tends to spoon her in his sleep. It’s cute 

He must already be up, Iris thinks, but she already has a niggling feeling that something is awry. Nevertheless, she takes a deep, deep breath, pulls one of the hotel robes over her pyjamas, and joins Joe, Caitlin, and… _not_ Barry in the dining room.

“Sleepy-head is still asleep?” Joe asks, taking a sip of bitter instant coffee, glued to what Iris assumes is old Mardon case files open on his laptop screen. “Told him he needed a rest.”

Iris is so furious that she laughs. Actually _laughs_.

Caitlin waggles her eyebrows at her, with less gusto than usual. “ _That_ kind of night, huh?”

“Barry’s gone,” Iris manages to grind out. “I don’t know where.”

“I thought you had it under control!”

“Yeah, well, so did I, Dad,” Iris says, falling into one of the dining chairs. “I can’t believe he lied to me. He’s probably stuck wherever Cisco is now, the idiot.”

“Okay,” Joe decides. “As of now, we’re all in lockdown. Nobody leaves this apartment. Not until we find both of our boys."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, damn Barry's hero complex, amiright? I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, if you did be sure to leave kudos and a comment (it sustains me).
> 
> Have a lovely day/night, wherever you are!


	8. Fighting Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally and Jesse decide to prove themselves as heroes, and Lisa Snart shows her human side.

After Hartley eventually finishes plucking the kinetic bomb fragments from the speedster and returns upstairs, the room dissipates into an uncomfortable silence. Barry and Cisco sit shoulder to shoulder still, neither of them daring to move a muscle for fear of aggravating their wounds.

“Sucks you’re not healing,” Cisco says quietly, glancing at Barry. “Dude, you’re shaking.”

Barry slowly rolls his head to face the engineer. His pale skin is freckled with dried blood and nasty holes, the top half of the Flash suit mangled from Hartley’s first-aid attempts. Cisco notes their wrists are almost matching, shiny pink skin weeping watery blood and starting to blister from the tautness of the makeshift cuffs.

“My speed is definitely gone,” Barry says, purposefully ignoring Cisco’s observation of what he _really_ hopes isn’t his body going into shock. “Can’t even vibrate.”

“Don’t tell Iris that,” Cisco quips.

Barry snorts and slowly readjusts his position so he’s facing the other. “Did you find out what Mardon wants?”

“He said he wants me.”

“You?”

“Yeah.” Cisco runs his fingers across his aching neck absent-mindedly. “He wants to recruit me.”

Barry frowns. “Recruit you? Dude, he _has_ to know you won’t work with him. You’re not a criminal.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why I’m locked in this disgusting basement. He’s been forcing me to vibe- thinks I can find out where a bunch of diamonds are. Said something about opening breeches to other Earths, probably to rob them.”

“Even if you do open a breech, he needs a speedster to catapult him through,” Barry says, closing his eyes. “Does he know that?”

“Didn’t mention it. Can’t let him find out, though, or he’ll rope you into this mess. For reals.”

Barry lets out a heavy sigh, wincing as even the simple act of breathing jostles his injuries painfully. “I think I’m already in pretty deep.”

 

* * *

 

 

The apartment explodes into yet another shouting match, this time between Wally and Joe. With tensions running high, Joe had been expecting an eventual confrontation with his son, had already guessed Wally would propose an idiotic plan. He links his fingers behind his neck and closes his eyes, taking a breath and counting to ten. An outburst of anger won’t get him anywhere; he calls on his years of experience as a detective to keep him level-headed and focused.

“Wally, you know I can’t let you do that. It’s too dangerous- “

Wally seems to have a penchant for interrupting his father, something that Joe stores in the back of his mind to reprimand him for later. “That’s what you always say! Just ‘cause you’re a cop doesn’t mean you’re the only one allowed to make sacrifices.”

Pulling out the cop-card again. “This isn’t a sacrifice, it’s a suicide mission. If Mardon managed to catch Barry, you’d have no chance.”

“Yeah, thanks, Dad,” Wally says, his voice dangerously low. He throws his arms above his head and storms off towards his room.

Everyone flinches when a loud thump echoes through the walls, followed by muffled swearing. Jesse stands up from the couch and cautiously makes her way to where Wally is still throwing a temper tantrum. She avoids Joe’s eyes on purpose.

Jesse knocks on the door and jiggles the handle- it’s locked. “Wally.”

“Who is it?”

“Jesse.”

The door opens and Wally steps aside to let her in. He closes the door, makes sure it’s locked- mostly out of spite towards Joe, he _really_ doesn’t want to see him right now- and tucks his hand into his pocket, not fast enough to avoid Jesse’s pointed gaze. She beckons him to sit on the bed next to her and places her dainty hand on his forearm.

“Let me see,” she says softly.

Wally holds his hand up and shows her his grazed knuckles, not so bad that they’re bleeding, but still missing a bit of skin. “It’s nothing, I just…needed to hit something. God, Joe is being so unreasonable.”

Jesse chews on her lip and tries to word her next sentence in a way that won’t offend him. “I think…it might be best to let Harry, Caitlin and Joe take the lead on this one.”

“What- Jesse, _we’re_ the metas! What are they gonna do that we can’t?”

“Wally, listen,” Jesse says, meeting his gaze and giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. “Joe’s right- we’re not as experienced as Barry. Neither of us know how Mardon fights- “

“He fights dirty,” Wally mutters. “He breaks the rules.”

“Exactly. He _makes_ the rules- we don’t know _what_ to expect. That’s why we need to do whatever Joe says. He’s been tracking Mardon for years, he’s us that plenty of times.”

Wally breaks their gaze. He knows Jesse’s right. The bed buckles as he shifts his position to face away from her. He _hates_ being wrong- something he definitely gets from his father, something he sees in Iris and even Barry. Maybe it would be best to let the more rational members of Team Flash take the reins.

That’s what they’ve been doing, though, and it’s gotten them nowhere.

“I’ve made my decision,” Wally says. “As soon as we have a location, I’m going in. I owe this to Barry.”

“Okay, then,” Jesse sighs, pushing at Wally’s shoulder. “You’re an idiot, but I’m not letting you go in alone. You need a woman’s expertise.”

 

* * *

 

“Have you tried to blast your way outta here? The kinetic bombs won’t work on you.”

“There’s no point,” Cisco says. “I still don’t have control of the blasts- not enough to take down three metas, anyways.”

“No,” Barry says, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Right. Well, have you tried to vibe the others? If we can get in contact with the team, it’ll make it way easier to come up with an escape plan.”

Cisco taps the side of his head, “I’ve been kinda foggy since Mardon hailed on me. I don’t even know if I _can_ vibe at the moment- I’m pretty hopeless without my goggles.”

“Right,” Barry mumbles, settling his hands back in his lap. “Wonder when Hartley’s coming back?”

“Not for a while. He’s worried that Mardon might be suspicious of him and Lisa planning a mutiny. Wizard could be back anytime, though.”

The men lapse into silence again. Cisco sneaks a look at Barry after a while, who seems to have fallen into a fitful sleep. Despite the power-suppressor around his neck, he’s still healing faster than a regular person, the areas of skin that had been assaulted by the kinetic bomb beginning to scab up, rather than stay as wet, open wounds. At least it’s not a power _disabler_. Barry opens his eyes and glances at Cisco as the speedster’s stomach rumbles, startling him.

“I thought you were asleep,” Cisco says, unable to stop a short laugh. “Scared me, man.”

Barry raises his hands to rest on his stomach and slumps down further against the wall. “What I wouldn’t do for some Coast City pizza right about now.”

“Well,” Cisco proposes, his voice still raw, “once we get out of this crypt, you can go pick some up. My shout.”

  

* * *

 

 

The next person to visit the two metas is Lisa, who comes down the stairs dangling a plastic bag that smells of Thai food- Cisco would know that smell anywhere, especially seeing as Mardon refused to eat anything else whilst in the pipeline. _Guess he’s getting his payback now_. Lisa unpacks the food, setting a couple of take-out containers and some soda cans on the concrete in front of Barry and Cisco. Both of their mouths water when Lisa flicks off the lids, even though the food is probably cold by now.

“Mardon’s not a complete savage,” Lisa says in response to Cisco’s mouth falling open in disbelief. “He _does_ want to keep you alive.”

Cisco makes a show of trying to pick up one of the plastic sporks with his hands still bound together painfully tight. If Hartley hadn’t replaced them much looser, he thinks they might have fallen off by now. “You expect us to eat like this?”

Lisa rolls her eyes and ducks back up the stairs. A minute later she returns with a small pistol tucked into her belt and a long knife gripped loosely in her fingers. She takes Cisco’s wrists, and the engineer jerks backwards out of instinct.

“Chill out, Cisco,” Lisa drawls, lowering the knife and sawing through the plastic tie. It springs open and grants him immediate relief. “You next, Barry. Mardon seems to think he’s got the both of you pretty well locked up, so no need for restraints anymore. I’m not going to complain.”

Barry’s brows knit together once his hands are freed. “Aren’t you worried we’ll fight back now?”

“I know you won’t,” Lisa replies, casually withdrawing the gun from her hip and letting the barrel point at the ground. She winks at Barry. “You can’t outrun a bullet without your speed. Even though Mardon would probably kill me if I managed to shoot you.”

Cisco hums, pulling one of the food containers over and shovelling spicy noodles and too-chewy chicken into his mouth. It’s cold and greasy and may _possibly_ give him food-poisoning, but it’s food nonetheless, and he didn’t realise how hungry he was until now. The room is filled with the sounds of eating for the next ten minutes. Barry looks significantly less pale by the time they’re done, his wounds closing up even more. Cisco drinks half of his soda, leaving the rest for later in case they aren’t fed again any time soon- he’s doesn’t trust the water from the small bathroom sink enough to actually drink it.

“Wait,” Cisco says, halting Lisa as she gathers up their trash and goes to leave. “Lisa…are you okay? Like, are you coping?”

“I’ll be fine,” Lisa shrugs, her face telling a different story. “Worry about yourself. I hope that team of yours comes up with a rescue plan soon, because Mardon has some interesting ideas around triggering your powers, Cisco.”

Cisco gulps. He’s not sure he wants to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm completely overwhelmed by all the lovely comments I've received! I'm glad to hear everyone likes the story so far- I'm almost finished writing it, so I'll continue to update it daily.
> 
> Have a marvellous day/night :)


	9. Sucker for Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hartley tries to keep up appearances with the rest of the Rogues. Cisco can't help riling up Mardon- which is probably not the best idea.

Hartley can feel Mardon staring at his back as he fiddles with some of the scrap metal he’d taken from Cisco’s desk. He’s weaving wires through the curved metal collar, tapping his foot on the floor and trying _desperately_ not to screw up, to make this work. Mardon had been insistent on using the power suppressor collar Shawna had snatched from Eiling’s base on the Flash, had he eventually discovered their safe house. Hartley had been instructed to start work on another collar right away, but was now being rushed by Mardon, the meta growing more anxious as he ruminated over Vibe’s potential offensive powers.

“Rathaway, my patience is starting to wear thin,” Mardon says, breathing over the scientist’s shoulder. “You said you’d have this done in time.”

Hartley fights the urge to roll his eyes. “That was _before_ Flash came to screw everything up. Don’t worry, Vibe is nothing without those ridiculous goggles. This is just a precaution.”

Mardon grumbles and traipses back across the small room at the back of the building where Shawna and Nimbus are glued to an episode of _The X-Files._ Hartley feels the rippling tension leave his shoulders as he relaxes back into his chair. The very presence of Mardon almost sends him spiralling into a panic- not that he’d tell anyone that, of course. He has a reputation to uphold.

Hartley tinkers with the collar for a while longer and wonders if he could somehow tamper with it. Mardon isn’t exactly a tech expert- come to think of it, all three of the metas are more street-smart than book-smart. That’s why he’s here, isn’t it? He tries to keep busy, threading the same wires through the same holes over and over. If he could construct this collar to visually match the one around Barry’s neck, he might be able to swap them out, allowing the speedster to tap back into the speedforce.

Lisa reappears in the room, having just taken some left-over food down to their captives. She meets Hartley’s eyes and gives a brief wink. Good- that means they’re okay. Cisco had Hartley worried for a while there- the reason being that he’s crucial to both of their survival.

In his time helping Team Flash to figure out a way to stop the time wraith, he’d learnt a great deal about Cisco, given that they’d spent a lot of time working on various weapons. Although Hartley’s understanding of the inner workings of sound and vibration surpassed the engineer’s, Cisco was more than a worthy colleague. He liked to think that he helped Cisco to better understand how his Earth-2 doppelganger’s powers worked. He had to admit, he had not been surprised at all when Cisco casually revealed to him that he’d projected a concussional beam at Black Siren.

If the time wraith had never followed Barry to STAR Labs, would Hartley have been left to rot in the Pipeline? It wouldn’t really have mattered anyway- he would have found a way to escape. Just like he’s going to find a way to free Barry and Cisco, and blast Mardon’s soggy ass into next _year_.

“Hartley?” The scientist spins in his chair at the sound of Shawna’s voice. “Did you bring the medical kit back up? I hope you didn’t use all my bandages.”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” Hartley sniffs, trying his best to look nonchalant as he pushes his glasses back up his nose. “I barely had enough to patch up Cis- Vibe, let alone Flash. I don’t know why you couldn’t just do it; I thought you were all about nursing people back to health.”

Shawna tucks her legs up into Mardon’s lap, throwing an arm lazily around his neck. “Well, my big bad boyfriend here wouldn’t let me. Said I’d get _hurt_. As I can’t look after myself, babe.”

Mardon huffs. “Rathaway worked with Vibe at that laboratory for months. He’d be a lot less likely to lash out at him than you. I wouldn’t want him to do anything to your pretty little face.”

Hartley sticks a finger in his mouth and pretends to gag. He turns back to the messy desk and rolls his eyes when he hears Nimbus making a no-doubt sexual joke. Mardon and Baez began seeing each other only a few weeks ago, but given Shawna’s penchant for whirlwind romances (Hartley snickers to himself at the pun), they’re already squabbling like an old married couple. He wonders if Lisa will throw herself at anyone- if she shacks up with Nimbus, he may actually gag for real. Wait, didn’t Lisa mention having a crush on Cisco?

Hartley hopes she doesn’t try to seduce Cisco. The engineer needs to keep his head in the game.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco guesses he’s been in the basement for about a day, but he can’t be a hundred percent sure. It could have only been half a day. Could have been three. His stomach is twisting in hunger again, despite having eaten only hours prior, and he’s almost out of soda. He leans forward and peers into the small, dingy bathroom. No harm in exploring, right? He’s so bored that even the mere thought of being in a different setting ignites his nerves with interest.

Stepping over Barry, who’s fallen asleep with his cowl bunched up under his head like a tiny makeshift pillow, Cisco hobbles into the tiny room and shuts the door, quickly using the rusty toilet- he hadn’t realised how badly he’d needed to go. He inspects the bathroom from top to bottom, opening empty cabinets and checking behind the toilet, under the sink; he cheers when the water from the rusty tap comes out clear and _not_ murky brown. He wets his hands and splashes water on the back of his neck, dispelling some of the lingering nausea.

A small, cloudy mirror is propped against the wall, having been removed from its place above the sink for some reason. Cisco sits in front of it and peels a corner of an adhesive bandage away from his face, inspecting the skin underneath. It doesn’t look infected (thanks, Hartley), but his jaw and cheek are bruised darker than he’d expected. He tries his best to get a look at the wound on the back of his head, but it’s at an awkward angle. It doesn’t feel too big, although the way his hair is matted together with blood, he would have thought otherwise.

_“Don’t worry”, Caitlin says, her deft fingers grazing the top of Barry’s head. “Head wounds bleed a lot. Even a regular human wouldn’t need stitches for this.”_

Cisco would do anything for Caitlin to be the one inspecting his injuries and patching him up. He hisses as he scoops water into his hands and works through his red-stained hair, trying to clean it up as best as he can. Caitlin would have numbed it for him, been gentle and thoughtful while she patched him up, would have let him chew on a twizzler even though she can’t stand the smell of them.

_“It’s not even real liquorice, Cisco! Why are they red?”_

After the water is running clear again, Cisco inspects the back of the bathroom door. He’s a bit annoyed that there’s no lock- but, he supposes, it wouldn’t make a difference either way. It’s not like he can hide from Mardon in there.

Mardon.

The heavy footsteps that Cisco is beginning to dread echo above him A million thoughts rush through his head at once; _diamonds, heist, he’ll make me vibe, I can’t find them!_ He pushes the bathroom door open again and moves as fast as he can in his current state, until he’s standing in front of Barry in a protective position. The faster Barry heals, the faster they can begin with an escape plan.

The room instantly feels colder when Mardon enters, tossing a piece of hail from hand to hand. He makes short work of the staircase and, to Cisco’s surprise, leans on the railing at the bottom, not in any apparent rush.

“So, Vibe,” the criminal says casually, playing with the hailstone like it’s a baseball. “Seen anything that might interest me?”

Cisco shakes his head. “I need the goggles to vibe, Mardon- I mean, I’m sure you can wrap your head around that.”

Mardon stands up straight, suddenly, dangerously. “I’m in charge here, Vibe, and you’ll speak to me with respect.”

Cisco can’t help himself. Aggravating Mardon is such a bad, horrible, _terrible_ idea, especially with Barry out of service, but he just can’t hold his tongue. The man annoys the living hell out of him, and he’s never been one to stand down from a verbal altercation.

“Respect- that’s a word I’d never thought you’d use,” Cisco spits. “What would you know about respect? Most criminals at least have some sort of code. You know, ‘don’t hurt innocents’, ‘no torture’. You’re a pathetic psychopath.”

It certainly was a bad idea to aggravate him, Cisco thinks as a chunk of ice flies narrowly misses his face and collies with the wall behind him, raining cold down on Barry, who’s just swung back around to consciousness. Mardon advances on him, his boots echoing loudly around the room. His hands are flexing at his sides, turning a spectacular shade of white as he conjures up more projectiles.

Cisco briefly wonders if either Hartley or Lisa are listening to this. He kind of hopes not.

“Oof!” He’s thrown backwards when Mardon manages to catch him in his torso, landing and becoming tangled in Barry’s long legs. He rolls to the side and tries to catch a breath. “Wait!”

Mardon growls and Cisco flinches as the room darkens. Is that a cloud above them?

“No, don’t,” Barry cries. He’s back on his feet, one hand splayed out in each meta’s direction. “Mardon, don’t zap him! You could kill him!”

Weather Wizard simmers down a touch, the room brightening again- well, as bright as it can be. Cisco feels strands of hair drifting down to land over his face and realises it had been beginning to stand on end from the electrical field Mardon had been generating from his storm. He smooths it back down absent-mindedly- he hadn’t realised he’d been _that_ close to being electrocuted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Cisco...you should probably be a bit more polite to Mardon.  
> I hope everyone is still enjoying the story and that I'm doing the characters justice, it's been an absolute blast to write, and there's plenty more to come!
> 
> As usual, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Have a lovely day/evening!


	10. Hartley Rathaway: Con Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mardon reminds Barry and Cisco who's in charge, Baez shows her human side, and Hartley comes up with a plan.

Harry lets out a strangled cry, almost knocking his computer from the dining table. “I’ve got a hit!" 

It’d been Iris’s idea to tap into the nearest satellite and set up an alert for any inconsistent or erratic weather patterns- just a theory at first, but Harry and Caitlin, with Felicity’s help over Skype, had managed to make it work. The distinct _lack_ of anything but perfect weather had almost led Joe to believe Lisa Snart had lied about Mardon’s involvement, but as he peers over Harry’s shoulder at the screen, it’s an image he’s seen before.

A tiny, localised storm system, only about a thirty metre diameter, hovering above the beach, not moving, not drifting in the gentle breeze.

“Score!” Iris high-fives Caitlin, both of them smiling for the first time in as many days.

“Okay, we have a location,” Joe says, dissolving into detective-mode. “Approximately…how far away, Wells?”

“Uh...two miles north. It looks like- give me a sec. Here, it’s an old kayak rental shed.”

“Wait, they’ve been that close the whole time? I don’t believe- “

Joe’s cut off by a flurry of activity; Wally’s standing in front of him wearing his Kid Flash outfit, arms crossed and jaw squared indignantly. Jesse comes to a stop a second later beside him, standing even taller at the look Harry gives her.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Wally says. “I’m not leaving Barry and Cisco with Mardon any longer.”

Jesse watches him flash away, turning to her father before tailing the speedster. “Trust us. We can do this.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco makes a face as he slides the goggles onto his face, opening his mouth to protest. Mardon cuts him off.

“No talkin’ unless you’re talkin’ about diamonds.”

Mardon’s brought Nimbus down with him this time, much to both Cisco and Barry’s chagrin, and he’s watching Barry like a predator hoping to finish off his prey. Short wisps of green drift from the meta’s body; Cisco takes it as a warning not to stuff up.

He feels the glasses power up, launching him into the centre of a time tornado. He takes a deep breath and thinks hard: _diamonds, gems, diamonds, gems._ Turning in a circle, nothing seems to stand out to him…but then he sees it. A small, non-descript light airplane. His vision flickers, and he’s standing in front of a glass-panelled building with _Brussels Airport_ signed across it. He’s whirled to another new place; the inside of a new airport- this one is much smaller. He glances up at a large round clock displayed on the wall to his right. It reads _9:46_.

Cisco hears someone choking for a breath as the world regains its usual hue. He realises a beat later that it’s him, struggling to breath, as Mardon yanks his goggles from his eyes and holds him against the wall by his throat.

_Damn, again with the neck!_

Barry yells something, but it’s muffled, too far away for Cisco to be able to make out any words. Mardon’s hand loosens, and he’s able to suck in half a breath, before it tightens again. Black leeches into the sides of his vision, and he begins to panic, clawing desperately at Mardon’s face, collar, sleeves, anything he can reach.

_Oh god, this is it, he’s gonna kill me._

 

* * *

 

 

Barry watches in despair as Cisco’s struggles grow weaker, until he’s no longer fighting. Just before the engineer passes out entirely, Mardon lets go and steps back as he crumples to the ground. Barry automatically steps forward and just manages to catch Cisco before he hits the concrete hard.

“Are you trying to kill him?” Barry yells, patting Cisco on the cheek at first, then giving him a gentle slap when he doesn’t rouse fast enough for his liking. “What the hell, Mardon?”

Mardon’s jaw is twitching, his hands tight fists at his sides. “You heard him- he said ‘Brussels’. He knows about these diamonds and he _won’t tell me_.

“Yeah, well, he can’t tell you if he’s dead!” Barry lets go of Cisco as he tries to roll onto his hands and knees, still heaving to catch his breath. “You don’t have to attack him every time you come down here.”

“He needs to learn who’s in charge here,” Mardon roars, pacing to the other side of the room and kicking at the staircase railing. The wood splinters loudly under his heavy boot.

Nimbus chuckles from across the room. “If you wanted him to choke, boss, you should ‘a let me at him.” He lets his hands dissolve into a putrid cloud of green, as if to prove his point. 

“Maybe later.” Mardon shoots him a dark grin.

Barry grabs Cisco’s chin and studies his neck, before meeting his eyes and communicating silently in the way that only best friends can: _you okay?_ Cisco nods, swallowing compulsively, and raise his eyebrows: _I know about the diamonds_.

Standing back up, Barry squares his shoulders the best he can without aggravating his still-healing wounds. “Vibe doesn’t know anything. If you hurt him again, I swear I’ll- “

“You’ll what, Flash?” Mardon shouts, pulling a block of ice out of thin air. “You’ll run?”

With his speedster-senses dulled, Barry only has a moment to react to the jagged blast of ice Mardon’s thrown his way. His aim must be getting better, as the oversized chunk of hail catches Barry on his left calf. He hears it crack before he feels it.

Cisco’s jerked out of his daze at the loud _crunch_ , and the piercing scream that follows. He whips his head around and sees Barry on the floor, curled up and clutching at his leg. He crawls over to the speedster and grabs at his shoulder.

“Barry,” Cisco tries to say, but his voice doesn’t seem to want to co-operate, instead coming out as a croaky whisper. He settles for squeezing his shoulder, trying to get a look at the injury. It’s difficult, though; Barry has both his hands alternating between grasping at his leg and hovering over the top of it.

“Don’t faint,” he manages to get out when Barry starts to go slack, grabbing his wet face. “Hey…stay awake.”

Mardon stalks over and removes the collar from around Barry’s neck. Cisco takes note of how he does so- pressing down on the red light in a pattern he can’t quite make out. He examines it between his fingers, before raking his fingers through Cisco’s hair and yanking his head up, hard. Cisco yelps at the sudden pain.

“Rathaway’s been slacking off with building a second collar,” Mardon says, slapping the thin metal around the engineer’s neck and clicking it shut. It’s uncomfortably tight against his swollen neck. “I don’t think Flash will be on his feet anytime soon, so I suppose there’s no harm in letting you take a turn until Rathaway does his job.”

Cisco watches as the criminal drops his goggles onto the floor in front of where he’s still crouched on his hands and knees. They clatter onto the concrete, as if in slow motion, and Cisco swears that as soon as they get out of here, he’s changing the design. He can’t stand to look at them anymore.

“I’m going to leave these here as a motivator,” Mardon states. He gestures to Cisco’s neck. “Without your powers, they’re nothing but a pair of regular glasses. I’ll be back in five minutes- if you’re still being stubborn, I’ll let Nimbus… _entertain_ you for a while.”

“That’ll change your mind,” Nimbus says.

Cisco tries to rasp out a sentence to catch Mardon’s attention before he leaves, instead opting to wave his arms as frantically as he can manage. The criminal stoops in front of him, uncomfortably close.

“Barry’s leg,” Cisco manages to whisper. “It’ll heal all wrong.”

“Not my problem. In fact, that’s quite a convenience for me.”

The engineer looks down at Barry, who’s blinking furiously and shaking his head, his face twisted in a painful grimace. “Cisco…ah, don’t. I’ll- I’ll be fine…”

Cisco makes a split-second decision. Barry is worth more than the diamonds. “I’ll tell you. Just…let someone set his leg.”

“It’s a freight plane. It’ll be arriving at the airport at a quarter to ten tonight.”

Mardon’s eyes just about fall out of his head. “Ten? That’s two hours from now!”

Cisco shrugs, shrinking back as Mardon glares at him. If looks could kill. “I swear, that’s just what I saw.”

“If you hadn’t screwed me around all day, you could’ve saved your friend a whole lot of hurt,” the criminal spits, taking a step towards Cisco. He seems to change his mind, instead making for the stairs. He stops halfway up and points a menacing, slightly sparking finger back down at his captives. “You two have rest time for now. I’ve got a couple of ideas for our next hit, Vibe, and we start tomorrow.”

Barry’s shoulders lower from around his ears as the heavy metal door clangs shut. He’s tucked his hands under opposite armpits, his leg resting awkwardly on the floor. Cisco’s more than relieved to see no sign of any blood staining the bottom half of the Flash suit- if there’s one thing that _really_ grosses him out, it’s open fractures. _Ick_.

“Cisco,” Barry grates out. “Do you think you could...reset this? For me?”

Oh god, he was worried Barry would ask him to do that. Truth is, he’s more than happy for Cait to take control of all the medical situations arising from Barry’s hero complex. It’s different, being her right-hand man in the STAR Labs med bay- the way she shouts out commands and keeps both their hands busy reminds him of working on projects with his friends back at university. He knows he won’t stuff anything up, because Caitlin simply won’t let him.

Here, though, Cisco couldn’t be more uncomfortable. It’s not the first time he’s had to push one of Barry’s bones back into place- but again, _Caitlin isn’t here_. He kneels down and wonders if he should try to peel the suit away from Barry’s leg. Probably not the best idea.

“I-I,” Cisco whispers, not sure what to say. “I don’t know if…”

Barry leans his head back and closes his eyes. “I get it, man. You don’t want to make it worse. Hey- at least Mardon’s gone.”

“For now.”

The door swings open again and Cisco feels like he could scream- if his voice was more functional, of course. He’s about to shoot an especially deadly look at whoever dares to interrupt their, as Mardon called it, ‘rest time’, until he sees Shawna Baez make her way down the staircase. She’s holding what looks to be a grey plastic case in one hand, and a curtain rod in the other. Cisco can’t believe it- it’s another medical kit. Does Baez have some sort of _General Hospital_ obsession? Must be the med student inside her, trying to break free.

“I hear someone’s gone and broken Flash’s leg,” she says, kneeling in front of Barry and clicking the case open. “You’re lucky I know a thing or two about this kind of stuff.”

_You could be helping people_ , Cisco wants to say. “Yeah- it was your boyfriend.”

If Barry hadn’t broken his hand when Hartley had pulled the bomb fragments out of him earlier, he definitely was now. But still, again, Cisco lets him crush his fingers as Shauna sets to work on his somewhat…not-that-bad looking leg. Barry makes awful sounds, like he’s dying, and Cisco has to keep swallowing so he doesn’t throw up.

Baez prods along his leg, murmuring something about a ‘tibial fracture’, and then Barry is writhing on the ground and moaning, fighting against her hold. She’s surprisingly strong for her small stature. She snaps the flimsy curtain rod in half and stabilises his leg, wrapping it tightly with bandages. When Barry curls to the side and vomits onto the concrete, she doesn’t recoil. Cisco can imagine her being a doctor, an actual doctor, like Caitlin.

“You’re okay, bro.” Cisco rubs Barry’s arm.

“It’s hard to know for sure without an x-ray,” Baez says, her voice unnaturally soft, “but I’m pretty sure it’s nondisplaced- I’ve just stabilised it for now. Keep these for the floor.”

She throws a pack of antibacterial wipes to Cisco and packs up the rest of her med, making for the stairs. Cisco misses the wipes by about a foot, snatching them from where they’ve landed and placing a couple on top of where Barry had lost his lunch. The last thing he needs at the moment is the room smelling like death itself.

“Shit,” Baez mumbles, spinning around and teleporting back across the room. She digs a collar- Cisco realises it must be the second collar Mardon had Hartley make- and fixes it around Barry’s neck. “Almost forgot.”

“Wait,” Barry says before she can whisk herself up the staircase. “Shawna, this isn’t you. You better than to trust a wanted man. Come on, Mardon’s just using you for your powers. You know that.”

Baez’s face steels, her eyes glazing over. “I _love_ him. And he loves me. Don’t- don’t act like you know anything about us.”

“You’re not a bad person. Yeah, you steal, but you’d never hurt another person. You can help us. Help us out of here.”

“No, I…no,” she stutters, holding a hand up to signal Barry to stop talking. A blink later, she’s at the top of the staircase, shaking her head violently. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” She jerks the door open and slams it, hard.

So much for an escape. And so much for Barry healing any time soon.

_The universe isn’t with us this time._

 

* * *

 

 

Hartley volunteers to be on hostage patrol. He’s a bit tense- who’s he kidding, he wouldn’t be surprised if he jumped out of his own skin. It’s been about an hour since Mardon, Nimbus and Lisa left to scout out and most probably perform a jewel heist at the nearby airport. He stops for a moment to thank his lucky stars that Mardon had decided to leave Baez behind with him instead of Nimbus, stating that the heist should go off smoothly with a hitman and master thief at his side.

Hartley’s been thinking, though, and he thinks he has a plan.

He’s about sixty-four percent sure it’ll work.

Shawna is sitting with her back to the basement door, a magazine propped up against her legs. She stands up as Hartley approaches and rolls her eyes, pulling her telescope from her waist and fiddling with it, a habit Hartley isn’t even sure she realises she has.

“It’s about time, Hartley,” Shawna moans. “This is the third time I’ve read this magazine, no joke.”

Hartley tries his best to look inconvenienced, even though he’s itching to check on how the guys are going downstairs- he’d heard Mardon sharing with Nimbus how he’d broken Barry’s leg earlier. “Your boyfriend just called.”

Shawna eyes the burner phone in his hand, her eyes narrowing. “And?”

“He thinks they can pull off the heist...but they need help getting though a security door. I can’t get there fast enough, so he wants you to do your thing.”

“Mark said not to leave you here alone. Let me talk to him.”

“Bad idea,” Hartley says. He’d expected her to say this, being as antsy as she is. “The ringtone will give them away. He wants you to meet them at Terminal Three, beside the soda machine.”

Shawna looks between him and the door. “You’ll be able to handle Flash?”

Hartley crosses his arms and juts out a hip, calling upon all of his sassiness. “He won’t be going anywhere with that collar around his neck- _I_ made it, so it’s better quality than that _thing_ Mardon had you take from Eiling. I’ll be fine- you’d better jump, though. Your boyfriend _really_ wants those diamonds.”

A puff, and she’s gone. The plan worked better than expected. Hartley loves when things work in his favour.

Especially seeing as how Barry’s collar won’t suppress his powers. These damn Rogues are so easy to deceive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning (or evening, wherever you are)- today is a bit of a longer chapter. I've taken some liberties with Shawna Baez/Peek-A-Boo's character in regards to her medical expertise, namely from the comics, in which she's a medical grad student (I'm assuming she knows how to set a fracture). Also, I'm by no means a medical professional, so everything here is courtesy of Doctor Google- the same goes for all of the science-y stuff (who said comic book science had to be accurate, right?).
> 
> Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed Chapter 10- if you did, comments and kudos always make my day special :)
> 
> Take care.


	11. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally and Jesse play the heroes, and things seem to be looking up for Barry, Cisco and Hartley.

“You sure about this?” Wally looks over at Jesse; her brow is furrowed, hands rubbing anxiously along her thighs. “Don’t feel like you have to do this with me. I won’t be upset if you go back to the hotel.”

Jesse waves her hand in his direction, her eyes still focused on the kayak rental shack in the distance. “You’re probably going to need me to rescue you at some point.”

“Okay then,” Wally puts his hand over hers and runs his fingers over her smooth skin. “Remember, no speed until we lure Mardon and the rest of his cronies away from the hut, Harry said he has bombs with bits of shrapnel that are attracted to speedsters.”

The two speedsters dash up the beach, coming to a stop on the sand before the shack. Wally moves in front of Jesse and cups his hands around his mouth, calling out to the criminals.

“Mardon! Get out here, we know you’re in there!”

Jesse shoots Wally a look, concern written over her face, when there’s no response. They move closer to the shack; Wally calls out again, still to no avail. The building is too quiet, even with the sound of the ocean beating in the background. Have they left the safe house already?

“Hey!” Jesse hammers her fist on the door. “Open up, we’re here to talk!”

“Either it’s a trap,” Wally says, “or nobody is home.”

A loud groan and the sound of shoes shuffling against the ground inside the shack startles Jesse. She takes a quick step back, hastily reminding herself not to use her speed. Looking over at Wally, he has the same bewildered look on his face that she imagines she’s bearing as well.

“Is that- “

“It’s him,” Wally hisses. “I’d know that voice anywhere. Move back.”

Stepping back onto the sand, Jesse watches as Wally slowly reaches out and taps on the door. The sounds from inside stop, and a hesitant voice makes itself known.

“Who is it?”

Wally widens his eyes at Jesse, raising his eyebrows. She shrugs in response.

“Uh,” Wally says, “come- come out! Without your weapons!”

A beat of silence. Then-

“Wally? Is that you?” Barry’s weak voice barely makes it through the door. “Wally?”

The door opens, and the first person Wally sees is Cisco, a mess of tangled hair and mottled bruises. He steps through the door, revealing Barry hobbling forward with the support of…Hartley Rathaway.

_Guess he_ is _on our side_ , Wally thinks, before rushing forward and taking the brunt of Barry’s weight. “Oh god, Barry. Let’s get you out of here. All of you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lisa Snart is a smart, cunning, astute woman, and she knows it. Although she’s always been somewhat of a femme fatale, having the moniker ‘Golden Glider’ makes her feel positively deadly. Tonight, though, she’s not a thief…she’s a double agent on a rescue mission.

Thinking about it in terms of playing a role calms her a little. It reminds her of how Lenny can, at the drop of a hat, switch from her over-protective older brother- her role model- to a frigid, indifferent felon. If he can do it, so can she. She’s a master of deceit- look how she fooled Cisco when they first met!

To be honest, even though she feels a little guilty about tricking the engineer, it helps reassure her that she can deceive Mardon. After all, he’s not nearly as observant. The fate of the mission rests in her hands for the time being- with Barry now out of commission as well, Hartley will probably need longer than they first anticipated to get their friends to safety. Easy as pie. She can do this.

_“Just keep them occupied. I won’t need long.”_

_Lisa smirks. “Don’t worry, Hartley. I’ll have Mardon chasing his tail like the dog he is.”_

“So, Marky,” Lisa drawls from where the three criminals are perched behind the chain link fence encircling the airport runway. “I’d be a _lot_ more comfortable if you’d let me have my baby back.” She palms the pistol tucked into the back of her pants. “I just don’t think I can do much damage with this little thing.”

“You’ll get it back when I know I can trust you and Rathaway not to team up with your little boyfriend,” Mardon growls, his eyes not leaving the runway. “And this is the last time I tell you- it’s Mark, or Mardon, Weather Wizard, even- but not _Marky_. Say it again and you won’t see your gun for a year.”

Lisa pouts- she’s grown so used to her one-of-a-kind weapon that she feels naked without it. It’s a good thing shooting a regular gun is in her blood, as she might have forgotten how to otherwise.

“What-“

Lisa is cast from her thoughts at Nimbus’s exclamation, whipping her head around to see that Baez has materialised from nowhere.

“What are you doing here?” Mardon snarls, stepping so close that their chests are pressed together. “You were supposed to stay at the safe-house, keep watch on Rathaway!”

Shawna shrinks back, her brow knitting together in confusion. “W-what? Hartley said you called him, that you need my help to get into- “

“And you believed him?”

Mardon walks a few metres away, shaking his head. He’s unnaturally silent- that’s how Lisa knows they’re in the eye of the storm. She waits for him to explode. Nimbus and Baez exchange looks, the latter apparently still having difficulty understanding what Mardon’s implying.

“They tricked you,” Mardon eventually grits out. “Rathaway and Ramon. Now we’ve lost _three of our assets_.”

Lisa keeps a subtle hold on her gun, half-expecting Mardon to lunge at her once he turns to scrutinise her.

“Did you play a part in this?”

Lisa snorts. _Keep it together- make him think you’re playing for his team_. “I’m just as shocked as you are.”

“So, it comes down to a decision, one which I’ll make alone,” Mardon says. “Do we go after the diamonds, or the metas?”

The remaining Rogues avoid his eyes, all three of them knowing better than to challenge him when his voice is this dangerous. Lisa flicks her eyes up, obscured by her loose waves, to keep a cautious eye on the criminal. Mardon stares out at the runway for a few seconds, watching as a small plane nears landing (presumably carrying a shipment of millions of dollars’ worth of precious gemstones) before coming to a verdict.

“This is just a small hitch,” he says, nodding as if to reassure himself. “We can miss one shipment of diamonds. It won’t be the last. Vibe, on the other hand…well, there’s only one of him. I’m not letting his skills go to waste.

“Guess he’ll be opening up that breach sooner than he thought.”

 

* * *

 

“What happened to your leg?” Wally asks, giving Barry an awkward half-hug as Hartley passes him over.

“I honestly don’t even want to talk about it,” Barry groans, letting Wally and Jesse position his arms over their shoulders as they begin their limp-slash-shamble along the sand. Hartley can see the holes on his face, neck and chest are almost completely healed- he wishes _he_ had a super-metabolism too. “Can we get out of here?”

“Sure. I’ll run you back to the hotel. I, uh, can’t guarantee I won’t jar your leg, though.”

Barry shrugs, his face taut. “Do we have a choice?”

“I mean, I can go and grab Joe- I’m sure he could find a car to come and pick you up in,” Wally suggests, although he doesn’t sound too convinced.

His comms system crackles and spits in his ear, voices making their way through, but indistinguishable through the static. Jesse had through this might happen- without the STAR Labs equipment and satellite, connection between their comms and Harry and Caitlin’s makeshift work station is a bit patchy. Never mind, though-

“That’s all well and good if you _want_ to linger here long enough for Mardon to capture you again,” Hartley says, peering out at the black ocean. It’s a dark night, the new moon unable to offer any light. “I’d suggest we make a move, quick. Don’t worry about that for now, I made it and it’s not weaponised and there’s no tracker,” he says when Barry gestures to the thin collar around his neck. “It isn’t supressing your powers- that’s why you’re starting to heal.”

“Well then, we’d better get back to the hotel fast,” Jesse says, unhooking herself from Barry’s arm. “Otherwise Caitlin will have to re-break the bone.”

“Shawna already took care of it,” Barry protests. “She said it’s only a small fracture- nondisplaced.”

Jesse puts her hands on her hips. “Shawna _Baez_? You think I’d trust her medical expertise over Caitlin’s?”

Barry sheepishly braces himself against Wally’s side. He looks at Cisco, who has been watching the unfolding scene quietly. Hartley assumes his throat is still sore from Mardon’s attack.

“I’ll see you back at the hotel,” Barry says, reaching out to clasp his best friend’s hand.

Cisco clears his throat. “Yeah, man. See you soon.”

The raw power of the speedforce never ceases to amaze Hartley. He hears the crackle before anyone else can, and then nothing but a cloud of disturbed sand remains. Turning to Cisco and Jesse, he wonders how the rest of them will get back. The hotel isn’t too far away, but he’s not sure Cisco will make it that far by the way his shoulders are slumped forward, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark.

“I don’t think I can run carrying both you guys,” Jesse says apologetically. “I can take Cisco first, and come back for you, Hartley.”

Hartley goes to agree- he’s not injured, after all- only to be interrupted by Cisco muttering a very indignant, “I’m not leaving him.”

Hartley raises an eyebrow at the engineer. “Don’t be absurd. You’re hurt, you need to see a doctor.”

“You’re coming with us,” Cisco says earnestly. “You’re the reason we’re out of that basement. You’re a hero- even if you _did_ beat the shit outta me.”

Hartley pretends to adjust his glasses to hide the blossoming blush over his cheeks. He’s never been called a _hero_ before. Is he supposed to say ‘thanks’? Is that the heroic thing to do? ‘No problem’, maybe? ‘All in a day’s work’?

Jesse’s head snaps between the two of them, until she finally huffs, “Fine, we’ll wait for Wally to come back.”

“He might not be back for a while,” Hartley says. “He’s a bit preoccupied with Barry.”

Cisco starts down the beach, gesturing for the others to follow. “We should get out of here.”

“I’ll go back to the hotel and get Wally,” Jesse suggests. “Hang tight, guys- we won’t be long. Just keep walking up the beach, we’ll see you.”

Once Hartley is left alone with Cisco, he expects it to be uncomfortable. The two walk side-by-side, albeit slower than usual to accommodate Cisco. Hartley can’t stop glancing at him every few seconds, a little concerned about his wellbeing.

“Can’t get enough, huh?” Cisco jabs. “Take a picture.”

Oops. Hartley clears his throat and commands himself to focus straight ahead. He tries to think up a witticism or blunt insult, but his brain has decided to shut down. A few more minutes of walking, and he can’t take it anymore.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says in what he hopes is a dry tone, “but you’re slowing us up.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Cisco replies, brushing his hand over the wound at the back of his head. “I’m not exactly in tip-top marathon-running form right now.”

Hartley hesitantly touches his fingers to Cisco’s hunched shoulder. “Let me help.”

Cisco stiffens as Hartley wraps his arm under the other’s shoulders, providing him with some much-needed support. They continue awkwardly down the dark beach, their sides jostling together in a not-entirely-uncomfortable way. Hartley feels Cisco relax more into him with every step.

“See?” Hartley breaks the silence. “I bet that feels better.”

“A weight off my shoulders,” Cisco huffs out a short laugh. “Thanks, Hart. I mean, Hartley. Um…can I blame that one on the head wound?”

Hartley is surprised to hear himself laugh- Cisco is too, judging by his wide eyes. “You don’t need an excuse. Hart is fine- I call you Cisco, right? It’s short for something too.”

Cisco slows down and Hartley follows suit, until they’re stopped, arms still looped around each other. “Do you mind if I just…rest for a minute?”

Hartley realises that Cisco has barely slept or eaten in three days, not to mention the fact he’s been forced to use his powers a _lot_ more than he should be. _Okay_ , he thinks to himself, cautiously scanning around for any sign of the Rogues. He doubts they’d be able to see them anyways, seeing as how the beach is lit up only by sparse streetlights along the nearby buildings and road. Nodding, Hartley drops onto the sand and stretches his legs out in front of him. Cisco takes up residence next to him, groaning quietly as he relaxes onto the soft ground.

“So, uh,” Cisco starts, stumbling over his words. “Just- thanks, Hart. I really mean it, seriously.” He picks at the hem of the shirt Hartley had brought him earlier (yesterday? A couple days ago?). “Why didn’t you try to find your gloves?”

“You’re more important than my gloves,” Hartley says. He cringes. “You _and_ Barry. You’re both important- you protect Central City, you’re both scientists- “

Cisco smiles. “I thought _I_ had a bad case of word vomit.”

Hartley sighs, steeling himself and looking Cisco straight in the eyes. “I can make a new pair of gloves. I find it considerably harder to make new friends.”

“Does that make me an old friend?”

“Something like that. Oh! I almost forgot.” Hartley reaches into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulls out Cisco’s Vibe goggles, handing them over to Cisco, who takes them with a perturbed look and slips them into his pocket “I grabbed these from the floor before we left. Mardon really is an idiot.”

Hartley’s taken by surprise when Cisco scoots closer and wraps his arms around him in a tight hug. He’s dirty, smells of blood and sweat, but Hartley doesn’t mind, not at all. He hugs him back, nodding into Cisco’s shoulder when he hears a whispered “thanks”.

It’s then, wrapped in a hug by his grateful and probably traumatised friend, that Hartley realises why he can’t stop smiling, why his cheeks are rosed with a near-permanent blush and why he’s putting his life on the line for one Francisco Ramon. Oh, no.

When Cisco pulls away, Hartley has to resist the urge to wipe the tears that’ve escaped from the other’s tired eyes. Instead, he clears his throat and clambers to his feet again, holding out a hand to Cisco to help him to his feet.

When he smiles and takes it and Hartley feels their hands fit together so perfectly for just a _brief_ second, he wonders if Cisco feels it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hartley's finally feeling all of the feels! Things seem to be looking up for Team Flash...only time will tell.
> 
> Kudos/comments are always appreciated if you enjoyed this chapter- I'm over the moon at all of your awesome support, it feeds my fingers and helps me to write faster. :)
> 
> Have a lovely day/night!
> 
> P.s. I cannot be held accountable for any bad decisions made by the characters ;)


	12. Amateurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally is able to get Barry to safety. Hartley and Cisco run into more trouble.

“Ow- _ow_ , Wally, _gentle_!”

“Sorry. Here we are.”

Wally skids to a stop in the hotel apartment, every piece of scribbled-on paper surrounding Harry at the dining table obligatorily flying into his face at the sudden burst of air. Barry unhooks himself from Wally’s tight grip and practically falls into Iris’s arms. She’s already there to catch him.

“Barry! Oh, Barry, I was so worried,” Iris says, pressing her face into his neck and breathing in his familiar scent. “You’ve got blood all over you- and your leg! Come on, let Caitlin check you out.”

Aiding Barry in his hobble to the smooth white leather sofa, Iris gestures for Caitlin to grab her med kit. She organises a pile of throw pillows under his head and crouches next to him, holding his hand with both of hers. Caitlin returns and undoes Baez’s makeshift splint, prodding at the wound in her professional yet gentle manner.

“You didn’t find Cisco,” Caitlin says quietly, avoiding Barry’s eyes. He knows she doesn’t blame him, but he understands her anguish. However, he sends her a tired smile.

“I did, actually. He’s on his way here with Jesse and Hartley.”

“Alone?” Caitlin gives him _the look_ , then looks over at Wally, who’s conferring with Joe a few feet away. “Wally, you should help Jesse. She can’t carry them both back on her own. Wait, Hartley?”

“Believe me,” Harry interjects, “Jesse is more than capable, but her downfall is her overconfidence- much like you, Wally. Neither of you will ask for help when you need it, and your willingness to forge your own paths could have put you in danger tonight. That being said, you have more than proven yourselves. Now, why don’t you go and help Jesse get Ramon and Rathaway back here safely?”

“Uh, sure,” Wally says. “I’ll be right back.”

As he taps into the speedforce and prepares to bolt from the room, Jesse appears, hunching over and panting with her hands on her knees. “Wow, that was fast. Hey, Wally, I- “

“Can’t get them back on your own. Sorry, I didn’t even think- I wanted to get Barry back here to get checked out by Caitlin.”

“Okay, kids, go!” Joe exclaims. He’s moved over to take Barry’s other hand whilst Caitlin manipulates his leg to ensure it’s been properly set. “I don’t know what happened or how you broke Barry and Cisco outta there, but Mardon and his Rogues are still on the loose, and _probably_ still after Cisco. Mardon doesn’t take kindly to failure- my guess is he’ll be hell bent on fixing his mistakes.”

 

* * *

 

 

“That’s the hotel there,” Cisco says, pointing at the barely-visible resort. It’s still a fair way off, but the mere sight of it quells the storm in the pit of Cisco’s gut. Hartley picks up the pace, practically dragging him at this point.

If Hartley hadn’t been his rescuer, Cisco would liken his feelings to Stockholm Syndrome- the way Hartley had cared for him whilst he was stuck in that damn basement was _really_ making him think. Sure, Hartley’s an attractive guy, but Cisco thinks of that as a fact, rather than his subjective opinion. The way his face is so perfectly proportioned and complimented by his glasses, his clean-cut dress sense that used to drive Cisco absolutely _mad_ (but now he finds it kind of endearing), the way small moles freckle his porcelain skin like stars- _no_. He is _not_ having this conversation with himself, not now.

Hartley Rathaway is a dick. Cisco’s hero, but still kind of a dick.

“How’re you travelling?” Hartley asks in a soft voice, almost carried away on the growing breeze. “You’re slowing down.”

“You’re speeding up,” Cisco mutters.

God, it’s gotten so chilly. Cisco wishes he had one of his hoodies to keep him warm. Between his thin t-shirt and bare feet, he’s popping goosies all over his arms and legs.

_Cold. Like ice._

Cisco stops abruptly and almost faceplants into the sand as Hartley keeps walking. Surely not- they couldn’t have found them this quick. Sure enough, though, he turns to see a group of people moving towards them, not quite running, but walking faster than he’d be able to manage in his current state.

Three people, he counts.

“They found us,” Cisco whispers, grasping at Hartley’s sleeve. It hasn’t been a common occurrence as of late- his control has been growing more with his training- but the sudden rush of unadulterated, raw, penetrating _fear_ must set it off.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s aware of the Rogues narrowing down on him, Mardon kicking the backs of his legs so he falls to his knees. His chest hits the sand, hard, and his arms are yanked behind his back so hard one of his shoulders dislocates. Mardon’s knees press into the small of his back with immense pressure, as though his whole weight is resting on Cisco.

If he could see the real world, he’d meet Hartley’s eyes as he’s pushed down beside him unceremoniously, hear him as he hums quiet assurances. _You’re okay. We’ll be okay_.

He’s too busy being stained with blue to notice any of this as he vibes Hartley sitting in front of him in a small, dark space, murmuring to him, placing his hands on Cisco’s cheeks. When Hartley leans in to kiss him, it terrifies him, because he sees himself tilting forward to meet him half way.

 

* * *

 

 

“No!” Wally skids to a stop in the sand, the scene in front of him almost causing him to stumble to the ground. “Get away from them!”

Mardon has his knees resting on the small of Cisco’s back as he lays silently in the sand, his eyes glazed over. Hartley lays parallel to him, bucking and swearing as Nimbus holds him down and taunts him. Their hands are bound quickly behind their backs with a roll of heavy-duty duct tape Mardon pulls from one of his many jacket pockets. Wally briefly wonders what else he has hidden in there, then decides he doesn’t want to know.

Cisco flinches and seems jerk back to reality, writhing and spitting obscenities as he desperately tries to roll Mardon from his back. He hisses loudly and stops moving, swivelling his head to inspect his busted shoulder before Mardon presses his face back into the sand. He notices Wally, eyes widening as he steps forward and stares down the Rogues.

“It’s over, Mardon,” Wally spits. “Get off them.”

“More speedsters,” Mardon grunts, clambering to his feet and flexing his outstretched hands. “You just don’t let up, do you?”

Wally’s used to the warm prickle of static electricity seeping through his skin, but the electrified cloud Mardon forms above him and Jesse is anything but pleasant. He acts quickly, taking Jesse around the waist and whisking her to the side as a bolt of forked lightning crashes into the sand where they’d been standing. He’s on his feet again in an instant, a wave of adrenaline spiking through his veins as he scans the villains.

He hears his comms system crackle in his ear, not quite able to make out what Caitlin’s saying. It should be working- they’re closer to the hotel than they were when they first found Barry and Cisco, and the signal shouldn’t be as patchy as earlier- but the electrical field Mardon’s generating must be messing with the system. Not that the rest of the crew could be of much help anyways, especially with Barry out of commission.

Wally tries to remember the stories Barry had told him, how he’d defeated these three particular metas. Peek-A-Boo won’t be too much trouble, seeing as how the dark night will inhibit her teleportation- she knows it, too, from the way she’s taking subtle steps backwards. Lisa is on their side, and he’s about ninety-three percent sure she won’t make an actual effort to shoot them with the small pistol she’s holding. Mardon and Nimbus, on the other hand, are already geared up for action.

“Don’t breathe in any of the green mist,” Wally tells Jesse from the corner of his mouth, still squaring up the villains. “Keep Nimbus busy- if he expends too much energy- “

“He won’t be able to reform as a gas, he’ll be too unstable,” Jesse says, eyes narrowing at Nimbus as his body disappears in a billow of green. “Got it. You taking Mardon?”

“Yeah. I’m taking him down.”

The two separate, and Wally focuses his attention completely on Mardon. He easily sidesteps the basketball-sized chunks of hail Mardon is hastily forming and hurling in his direction. The man is visibly furious, which Wally knows he can work to his advantage. He blurs from left to right, trying to tire the meta out, to lure him away from where Hartley and Cisco are immobile on the sand.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Wally yells, running forward to shoulder-charge Mardon. He lands a good hit, colliding with the man’s stomach, but finds himself temporarily blinded with pain and unable to coordinate his limbs once they land roughly on the ground.

If he didn’t have the speedforce with him, Wally might have been incapacitated for longer. He manages to duck away before Mardon can land another electrical charge, and he’s thankful that _Barry_ was the one struck by lightning to gain his powers, because that shit hurt like a mother.

“You took that better than Flash did the last time I struck him,” Mardon says, his eyes desperately trying to follow Wally as he runs, albeit a bit more clumsily than before. “You might have the speed, but I’ve got the whole sky.”

Wally’s confidence wanes when he looks up to see obsidian clouds rolling into formation. Maybe Joe and Harry were right. Maybe he’s too much of an amateur.

After all, he’s not the Flash. He’s just the Kid.

 

* * *

 

 

“Bring it, Shrek!" 

Jesse still isn’t sure that following Wally here was the best idea, but it’s definitely in _his_ best interests. From the corner of her eye, she can make out his yellow suit blurring back and forth in an impressive display against Mardon. No way he would have been able to take on _both_ metas alone.

“You’re killing me, Nimbus!” Jesse taunts Nimbus again, holding her breath and charging around him quickly, causing him to disperse momentarily. He quickly reforms, his ghastly face contorted in a silent scream of rage as he rushes her. “Not fast enough. I thought you were a hitman- not a very good one, apparently.”

_Keep him moving_. Jesse moves in much the same way as Wally, darting nimbly from side to side and subtly luring Nimbus away from the others. She’s overly conscious of only breathing clean, non-tainted air- Nimbus doesn’t seem to be tiring, though. Jesse thought _she_ was the one with the super-metabolism.

Aha! Nimbus regains his human form and stumbles slightly. Jesse breaths a quick sigh of relief, especially after she looks over to see Wally on the ground, scurrying away from Mardon just in time to avoid being electrocuted again.

“What, getting a bit tired, Nimbus?”

The meta shakes his head and grins. The look on his face chills Jesse right through to her bones. He looks upwards, to where the sky is darker than Jesse would have ever thought possible at night. Small white sparks dance across the clouds; she raises a hand to her head, almost without realising, and feels her hair standing on end.

Wally is suddenly beside her, his hand locked tightly around her upper arm. “Jesse, we gotta grab Cisco and Hartley and _go_.”

As much as she really, _totally_ wants to take the Rogues down once and for all, Jesse nods hastily. “I’ll grab Hartley.”

They rush forward simultaneously, only to skid to a halt.

Nimbus has recovered enough to reform into his gas state, and is positioned in an almost luminescent ring around the two captives- a sort of gaseous force-field. It’d be far too risky to try running through it, especially when Mardon steps in between them, shrugging so smugly that Jesse has to resist the urge to run forward and clock him across the jaw.

Bad idea, though, because Mardon is suddenly launching more hail at them, one hand still in the air, refusing to quell the storm. Jesse follows Wally as he dodges the projectiles, yelling at the top of her lungs.

“We can’t take them on without the Flash!”

“I’m not leaving Cisco again,” Wally replies, whipping to the side Matrix-style. “We can do this.”

The night sky rumbles ominously, and Jesse finds herself tackling Wally away from a white-hot bolt of electricity. “We’re gonna get killed!”

Wally meets her eyes, pulling her to her feet. He nods resolutely. “Next time.”

Jesse is about to follow him as he disappears along the sand, away from the Rogues and their friends. She has a spur of the moment thought, though- there is _one_ person she can save right now. One person not being viciously guarded by two absolutely mental villains. One person with the kind of information they will need in the near future.

She grabs Lisa Snart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, Wally and Jesse were totally underprepared! What lies in store for Cisco and Hartley?
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, get ready for more action tomorrow. Comments/kudos are greatly appreciated, as always, and I hope everyone has a lovely day/night. :)


	13. Bitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cisco is once again Mardon's prisoner, and finds himself relying on Hartley more than he thought he ever would. Lisa gives Team Flash some important information.

Hartley’s often wondered what abilities the particle accelerator explosion may have given him if it hadn’t just screwed up his hearing and made it super-sensitive. Maybe he’d be fast, like Barry, or maybe he’d be one half of something greater, like Firestorm. He doesn’t envy Cisco, though- nightmare visions and headaches don’t appeal to him as much.

Right now, though, he wishes he were telepathic. So he could tell Cisco it’s gonna be okay. The look in his eyes as they lay on the ground, unable to move except to wriggle around like worms in dirt, hurts Hartley more than his ears ever did. He’s scared too; Mardon _knows_ now, without a doubt, that he’s a traitor, that he’s been on Cisco’s side all along.

Hartley remembers what Mardon had said when he first took his gloves.

_You’re smart, cunning- but you’re still disposable._

Shit. Mardon wouldn’t kill him, would he? Of course he would, and it would probably be slow and painful- the same way he’d threatened to end Barry’s life months ago. He can’t hold onto that thought for long, though, because Wally and Jesse are here all of a sudden, and Nimbus and Mardon are busy, not paying attention to him.

“Cisco, calm down,” he hisses to the struggling mechanic. “I’m going to get you out of here in one piece.”

“One piece would be good,” Cisco says, grimacing as thunder rumbles above.

Hartley manages to roll onto his side and sit up, keeping a careful eye on the battle raging next to them. “Get up, while they’re distracted.”

Cisco copies Hartley, who tries to keep his face calm when he sees the slumped angle of Cisco’s shoulder. He manages to get to his knees and is about to stand up when Shawna spots them. Hartley opens his mouth to warn Cisco, but it’s too late. Shawna lashes out with one of her heeled boots, pushing Cisco back onto the sand.

“Get down, Hartley,” she warns, stepping back. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Hartley mutters, but he complies, lowering himself back onto his stomach. _Damn it_. Wally and Jesse had better win.

But then all Hartley can make out is a wall of flickering green gas, surrounding the both of them.

“Don’t breathe,” Cisco says, his eyes wide. “It’s hydrogen cyanide.”

_This is it_ , Hartley thinks. He meets Cisco’s eyes, unable to close his own. _This is the last breath I’ll ever take_.

Then the green is gone, and they’re being pulled roughly to their feet. Cisco yelps when Mardon jars his dislocated shoulder the wrong way, hissing at him in the kind of Spanglish that would usually make Hartley turn to hide a tiny smile. Hartley’s face is anything but mirthful, though. Their situation just got a whole lot worse.

 

* * *

 

 

Lisa thinks she’s going to hurl. One minute she’s at the beach, her trigger-finger itching as she watches the two speedsters take on Mardon and Nimbus, and the next, she’s in a warm, bright room, her hair mussed over her face.

“You rescued _her_?”

She’d know that voice anywhere. Lisa turns to see Detective Joe West advancing on her, his mouth gaping open in what she can only assume is a combination of fury and disbelief. She’s still not sure where she is, though, so she ignores him, instead turning in a circle to take in her surroundings.

Wally ( _Kid Flash_ , she thinks. _Lenny would love that_ ) and Jesse are beside her. Ah, so that explains the sudden change in scenery, and the now-quelling nausea in her stomach. Nothing quite like being whisked through the air at hundreds of miles an hour.

“Cisco?” Barry asks from the couch, his head popping over the back. “He’s…”

“You were right,” Wally says, rubbing his face tiredly. “Nimbus and Mardon, they’re too strong.”

“Not too strong,” Joe says. “Too experienced. They’ve been at this sort of thing for years, and they’re damn good at it.”

“I thought- “, Wally breaks off, looking at Jesse. “We just wanted to help.”

Caitlin Snow- Lisa doesn’t miss the scathing look the doctor shoots in her direction- crosses the room in a few quick strides and stops in front of a very sheepish Wally. “Wally, you did help. You brought us her.”

“Glad to be here,” Lisa says smoothly.

Caitlin bites her lip, then continues. “Lisa has an in- even though he might be suspicious, Mardon still doesn’t know for sure that Lisa’s on our side. For all he knows, we’ve _kidnapped_ her.”

Lisa narrows her eyes. “You’re going to propose a trade? Do you really think Mardon will give up Cisco in exchange for me? He doesn’t care about me, _or_ about Hartley. We’re just his pawns.”

“Not a trade,” Harry says, wrapping his arm around Jesse’s shoulders and inspecting her for any injuries. “Information. Mardon won’t be returning to his safe house- we know where it is. We won’t find Cisco or Hartley there.”

“We did have a second place,” Lisa says. She thinks she knows where this is going. “A house, it’s further inland. I don’t know if I’d be able to find it, though- I’ve only been there once, at night.”

“Can you describe it to us?” Barry asks. “The neighbourhood, the colour, the layout…anything could help.”

“I know it was in a small neighbourhood to the south-east. It was two storeys- it might have been brick…or wooden. I can’t remember.”

“Anything,” Caitlin practically begs. “Did it have a garden?”

Lisa casts her eyes downwards. God, why couldn’t she have paid more attention? She’d been so wrapped up in Mardon taking her gun that her surroundings had been a mere blur. Lenny would be disappointed. Wait. She _does_ remember something.

“The roof,” Lisa says slowly. “I-it was dark, but I remember seeing the roof- there was a streetlight, it lit it up. I remember thinking how _weird_ \- “

“What about it?” Barry cuts in.

“I thought it was strange, because having a safe house with a bright blue roof isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“That’s the kind of information we need,” Harry says, returning to his laptop. “A blue roof. We’re going to find them, and _this_ time,” he looks from Jesse, to Wally, to Barry, “we’re going to do it as a team.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Keep up,” Mardon rumbles, stalking ahead of the rest of the group. “This is the last time I want to deal with any speedsters tonight."

Nimbus nudges Hartley forward, causing him to stumble slightly. He turns to shoot Nimbus one of his signature ‘ _you’re an imbecile’_ looks, but the meta doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest- in fact, he simply smiles.

Hartley knows Nimbus has had it out for him since day one, constantly making snide remarks and generally making his life miserable. More miserable than it had already been, of course. He silently chides himself for not sticking around at STAR Labs after helping out with the time wraith- maybe then, he wouldn’t have been recruited.

But then he wouldn’t be around now to watch out for Cisco.

Not that it matters. His plan bombed spectacularly, and now _he’s_ the prisoner. Yet another world-class failure. His parents would be _so_ proud. He’d tried to reconcile their differences, but after having dinner together with them months ago, he’d remembered what assholes they are. Tried to book him into _conversion therapy_ , for fuck’s sake! Still, he’d lied to Cisco and Caitlin the next time he’d seen them, told them he’d been reinstated into the family fortune.

He wonders if Cisco has a nicer apartment than he does. Hartley’s not one for decoration, but Cisco seems like he is. At least, on the pop-culture front- he probably has a whole room just for collectables and action figures.

Hartley realises they’re no longer on the beach, but instead making their way down a residential street. It happens often to him, zoning out; especially when he’s in a state of shock. _Don’t panic, it won’t get you anywhere. One step at a time._

“Don’t touch me,” he hears Cisco say sharply.

“Leave him alone, Kyle,” Mardon says, not bothering to turn around. “You’ll have your fun later on, with Rathaway.”

Hartley shivers at Mardon’s words. “You touch me Nimbus, I’ll shred you apart from the inside.”

“You should be worried about me doing that to you,” Nimbus smirks, leaning over _far_ too close to Hartley’s ear. “Poor Pied Piper.”

_Disgusting_.

Hartley makes a repulsed sound and steps closer to Cisco, who sends him a weary and totally unconvincing smile. Hartley doesn’t return it- instead, he watches his boots as they tap against the asphalt, unable to meet the other’s eyes. This is all _his fault_ \- he should’ve come up with a different plan (a _better_ plan- he’d just been so desperate), tried harder to distract Shawna. Hell, he probably could’ve talked her out of Mardon’s plan himself.

He hasn’t felt guilt in a long time, and this is the first time he’s ever felt so responsible for another human being. What does that say about Cisco? What does that say about _himself_?

Cisco tries to keep a mental map of where they’ve been walking. South-west, by his guess around two or three miles from the beach where they’d been (re)captured. Mardon’s smart, he’ll give him that; Team Flash won’t be expecting his second safe house to be so close to the first. Hell, they’ll probably start by looking north.

Unless, _unless_ , Lisa has been here before. He hopes and prays that she has, that she remembers the way, and that Barry is healed. He never in a million years would have guessed that his life would be in the hands of a Snart. It’s a good thing they’re renowned for being so resourceful.

“We’re here,” Mardon announces, stepping onto the dry grass out the front of a large brick house. Even in the dark, Cisco can make out the obscenely blue roof- it looks freshly painted. He glances around the sparse neighbourhood. It’s probably later than midnight; even so, it’s quiet for a vacation location. It’s dark, though, making it highly doubtful anyone had seen the group. Even if they had, they wouldn’t have been able to make out the binds around his and Hartley’s wrists. They probably just looked like a bunch of young, drunk holidaymakers. He considers

“Aren’t you worried about us knowing the location of your second base?” Hartley drawls.

Mardon unlocks the door and shakes his head. “No. We won’t be here long enough for you to tell anyone. Not that you’ll be speaking to anyone else for a _very_ long time.”

Cisco gulps as he’s shoved inside. He barely has a change to case the room before he’s being dragged up a staircase by his good arm. Mardon’s hand radiates cold, burning Cisco’s flesh under the thin shirt. He struggles mildly, but there’s really no point. It’s more of a show of defiance than anything.

“This,” Mardon grunts as he jerks Cisco into a…bedroom? “Is where you’ll be staying for a while. I don’t trust Snart, so we’ll be on the move again as soon as you open us up a portal, Ramon. Then it’s back to Central City on another Earth, where _nobody_ will ever find you again. And then, Vibe, you’ll have no choice but to make me rich.”

“What makes you think I’ll do that?” Cisco _thinks_ he sounds brave and mighty, but it’s probably just the adrenaline and anger combined with a lack of sleep and food. “I’ll sooner die than help you.”

“You two seem to be pretty good friends,” Mardon says slowly. “You’d have to be, for Hartley to want to risk his life to save you. _If_ you don’t comply with me, Vibe, I’ll make his every waking second a living hell.”

“It doesn’t matter if I open a breach or not,” Cisco says snidely, locking eyes with Mardon. He wasn’t planning on telling Mardon, but it’s either he _doesn’t_ know and Hartley gets hurt (or _dies_ ), or he _does_ know and Hartley lives. Either way, he won’t be catching Barry or the others any time soon; he trusts his team to have a plan. He shifts his legs and feels the Vibe goggles rubbing against his thigh. “You need a speedster to catapult you through. I’m useless on my own.”

“I see,” Mardon says, stroking at his chin thoughtfully. “You see, normally I’d be beside myself with anger at you having lied, _once again_ , but now…I have no use for Rathaway anymore. I’m going to propose a trade with your team. One of your speedsters for Rathaway’s life.”

Mardon steps aside to let Nimbus enter the room with Hartley, before he points a finger towards a small walk-in closet and ensuite combination off to one side. “Get in, both of you.”

Hartley huffs and stalks over. Cisco follows- he’s going to end up in there one way or another. Might as well do it without losing any teeth. Once they’re inside, Mardon presses his hands against the doorframe and scrutinises Cisco for a bit.

“How did you find us?” Cisco asks cautiously.

“You shouldn’t have walked along the beach. All we had to do was follow your footprints.”

Hartley could slap himself; how could he be so stupid? Of _course_ they’d left a trail, he’d just been too anxious and rushed to think straight. All it would have taken for them to be free is if they’d made their way towards a road or path. There’s no use ruminating on it, though; he can’t change the past.

The door slams shut. A bolt clicks from the outside, and then Cisco hears something being pushed up against it. He shivers- he’s never liked small spaces. Especially when- he runs his eyes around the small space- yep, no windows. The air seems to double in stuffiness; the old clothes hanging against the two side walls smell of mothballs and old people.

Wait- he knows this place. He’s been here before. Not in person, but in a vibe. _This is the closet he vibed earlier_.

“So, this is a situation,” Cisco says, laughing weakly because _damn it_ , his emotions are all over the place.

“A situation,” Hartley echoes.

“Don’t worry, Hart. We’re not gonna let Mardon kill you.”

It’s then that Cisco realises how quiet the room is, or, rather, _was_. He turns to Hartley, who’s leaning against one of the walls, buried in overcoats and jackets. He’s breathing heavily- Cisco might even call it panting- and he’s swallowing compulsively.

“Hey, Hart,” Cisco tries to reassure him. “It’s cool, man, we have plenty of air in here. You’re not gonna suffocate.”

“It-it’s not that,” Hartley replies, closing his eyes. His glasses slide down his nose and Cisco wishes his hands were free, so he could push them back into place. “I don’t like small spaces.”

_Oh_. Well, Cisco can agree on that one. He’s feeling a little panicked himself.

“I have an idea,” Cisco says as Hartley slumps to the ground. He crouches in front of him and struggles to maintain his _own_ breathing. “We’re both claustrophobic, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, shouldn’t my claustrophobia cancel yours out?”

Hartley opens his eyes. “I…I guess. I guess it makes sense.”

“Well, that settles it,” Cisco says. “I guess neither of us mind being in this ridiculously small space anymore.”

It’s stupid and shouldn’t work, but it does. Hartley feels his legs relax, his shoulders droop. He takes a couple deep breaths- he’s still anxious, paranoid, but at least he’s not panicking anymore. He wishes Cisco had been there to coach him through all the anxiety attacks he’d had in the past. It would’ve made life a lot easier.

“Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t become a psychologist,” Cisco says.

“Because you’re too good at building things.”

Cisco clambers back to his feet with the grace of an elephant. “I’m gonna have a look in this bathroom, see if there’s anything sharp. Once we get our hands free, I’m gonna need you to pop my shoulder back in. Hurts like a bitch.”

“I’ve never done that before,” Hartley says, using the wall to help him up again. “What if I make it worse?”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. I don’t think I’ll be seeing Cait anytime soon,” Cisco says, his usually bright eyes dulling at the thought. “Anyways, be back in a sec.”

Hartley listens to Cisco clatter about in the bathroom, pulling open cabinets with his toes. A few minutes, and a _lot_ of pained swearing later, he emerges appearing victorious. He kicks a pair of nail scissors into the closet.

“How are we going to do this?” Hartley wonders.

“Easy,” Cisco explains. “We’ll sit back-to-back, and you cut the tape from my wrists. Just don’t, you know, cut my fingers off.”

“Right.”

They slump against each other in the middle of the room, their hands grappling in between them. Hartley manages to align the scissors into a workable position with one hand, and runs the fingers of his other hand along Cisco’s wrists until he feels the tight tape.

“Ready?” Hartley opens the small blades and slips them between Cisco’s hands.

“Yep.”

He cuts, and when Cisco doesn’t protest or jerk away, he does it again. And again.

And again.

It takes a while, but eventually the almost-useless scissors glide through the last thread of silver tape. Cisco hisses a ‘ _yes_ ’ under his breath, moving his arms into his lap as fast as he can. He yelps at the sudden flood of pain in his shoulder.

“Get mine free,” Hartley instructs, looking at Cisco over his shoulder. “The faster you do that, the faster your shoulder will be back in place.”

Cisco cuts through Hartley’s bindings much faster this time. Hartley moans as he flexes his arms and twirls his wrists. It feels so good to be free.

_Well, half-free_ , he thinks, looking at the closet door with disdain. “Alright, a deal’s a deal. Are you ready for this?”

Cisco doesn’t nod or apply in the affirmative, but the look in his eyes tells Hartley an entirely different story. Determination. Hartley climbs to his feet and places his arms lightly on Cisco’s.

“Tell me what to do.”

Cisco sits back on the floor and scoots until his back hits the wall. “Think of it as a machine. It’s a ball and socket joint- only the ball’s popped out of place. I’ve only seen Cait do it once to Barry, so it’s mostly guesswork, but hold my elbow out at around ninety degrees and move my arm back towards the wall. Then kinda- “, he makes a vague motion with his other arm, “rotate it back inwards.”

Okay, that’s not too hard. Hartley can do that.

“I’d help,” Cisco adds, nodding to his arm, “except I can’t.”

Hartley rolls his eyes and sits in front of Cisco, gently pulling his arm out and following his instructions word-for-word. It’s easier to picture now that Cisco’s likened it to performing maintenance on a piece of machinery. _Ball and socket. Pop the ball back into the socket._

Cisco clamps his eyes shut and breathes heavily as he begins to rotate it inwards. “Wait- wait, stop.”

Hartley frowns- it’d be easier to just ignore him and get it over with quickly. He can’t bring himself to do that, though. He keeps a firm grip on Cisco’s arm, but doesn’t move it any further. He watches Cisco’s face loosen slowly until he opens his eyes again, nodding. With a sure movement, Hartley rotates his arm, biting his lip at the shrill cry it provokes.

And, then…it kinda grosses Hartley out, to be honest.

He feels the joint roll back into place. Cisco moans loudly, his brow furrowing, but his face isn’t as taut as earlier. He experimentally moves his upper arm, just an inch, nodding to himself and letting out the breath he’d been holding.

“I think it’s all good,” he breathes. “I can move it. Not a whole lot, though.”

Hartley ducks his head and rubs at his eyes. He’d been worried he’d screw Cisco’s arm up so badly that he’d never be able to work as an engineer again. Hartley would be more than happy to take over the mechanics behind STAR Labs if that were the case, but he’d rather not come to that bridge. Team Flash without Cisco…it wouldn’t be Team Flash.

“Hey,” Cisco says, reaching out to grab Hartley’s hand in a gesture of gratitude. “Thank you, Hart. I mean it.”

Hartley’s not sure what comes over him. The sheer amount of adrenaline shooting through his veins must be making him feel braver than he really is, because this isn’t something he’d do otherwise. Or maybe it’s the situation he’s in, causing him to face the realisation that he may not make it out alive. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s trapped in a space that _should_ be triggering him into claustrophobia-induced panic attack after panic attack.

He’s not panicking, though. It’s the most serene he’s felt in months- _years_ , even.

He examines Cisco’s face, from his dark doe-eyes, curtained with thick black lashes, down to his plump lips, chapped from being anxiously chewed on. His caramel skin is marred by the deep blue under his eyes and the brilliant bruises along his jawline and cheekbones. The closer he looks, the more intriguing he finds the man.

At the same time, Cisco watches Hartley. He counts the small moles dotting his fragile skin- it distracts him from the deep ache in his shoulder, from the lingering pain in his stomach and chest and the stinging of his face. He reaches out tentatively and adjusts Hartley’s glasses, pushing them back up his nose. It’d been annoying him.

Cisco then realises that maybe his vibe is about to come true. Does he want it to?

_Of course he does_.

Hartley reaches out and grazes Cisco’s hair with his knuckles before cupping his hands tenderly over his discoloured cheeks. He leans in, but hesitates at the last moment, as if asking for permission. His unsteady breath tickles Cisco’s upper lip.

They stay like that for a moment- until Cisco remembers that _he’s_ supposed to lean in and close the distance. So, he does.

Hartley’s lips are as soft as he’d imagined, yet firm enough to make this a kiss he won’t forget. Cisco doesn’t want to push his luck, not yet, and he pulls away before his mind has a chance to catch up. Hartley follows him, as though Cisco’s lips are a magnetic field drawing him back, and presses their lips together again.

Hartley is the one to jerk back this time, his face flushing a brilliant shade of scarlet.

“Sorry, I- sorry,” he stumbles. “That was…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Cisco says quietly. “I wanted it too.”

Hartley glances back around the room- if it can even be called that. His eyes linger on the door again. The atmosphere in the room changes almost immediately to trepidation- the fear of the unknown, of what might be about to happen at any second.

Cisco likes to hug- it’s his favourite form of affection, even _more_ so than kissing (which he also enjoys very much, don’t get him wrong- _especially_ when he’s kissing Hartley). He’s not sure if Hartley is a touchy-feely person too, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take. One arm outstretched, he quirks an eyebrow at the other man.

“You look like you need a hug,” Cisco explains at Hartley’s befuddled expression. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Who says I don’t like to be bitten?” Hartley smirks at Cisco’s melodramatic groan, but falls into his arms nevertheless.

They sit like that for a long time, and when they tire out, they pull the clothes from the hangers and create makeshift pillows and a makeshift blanket.

They fall asleep with their fingers intertwined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squee! Hartmon is officially happening (I mean, I haven't exactly been subtle about it, but still!). I know some of you have been hanging out for this moment, so I hope I did it justice :)
> 
> As always, kudos make my day, and I absolutely love reading all your comments, they make me smile like an idiot!
> 
> Stay safe and have a lovely day/night.


	14. Red Sky at Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Flash formulate a rescue plan, Cisco and Hartley reminisce to pass the time, and Jesse and Wally enjoy a fleeting moment.

“Let’s try taking a step.” 

Barry leans tentatively on his still-splinted leg, an arm around Joe’s shoulders. He raises his eyebrows, applying more weight, then taking a short step. Caitlin stands in front of him, arm outstretched to catch him if he stumbles. It reminds him a bit too much of when Zoom snapped his back in half. He swallows hard and forces the memories to retreat to the back of his mind.

“It feels fine, Cait,” Barry says, hobbling across the room as fast as he can without bending his leg. “Can you get this splint off?”

Caitlin purses her lips. “Usually I’d be hesitant to- especially without an x-ray to go off. But…”

Her hair is blown back by a gust of wind, and then Barry is dropping the remains of the splint on the sofa. “It’s completely healed, Cait. Trust me, I’ve broken enough bones to be able to tell- it doesn’t hurt _at all_.” He gestured to the collar that had previously been around his neck, where it’s sitting on the dining room table, ready for Cisco to tinker with when he returns. A homecoming present. He bites his tongue when Caitlin picks it up and begins to fiddle with it.  “Hartley said this collar, the one _he’d_ made, wouldn’t supress my powers. I’ve been healing since even before Wally and Jesse found us. Look, no more holes in my skin from the bomb, see?”

“Well okay,” Caitlin says, obviously still not completely swayed by Barry’s reasoning. “Just take it easy. It’s only been a few hours.”

Harry calls for everyone to join him behind his computer, where he’s furiously punching at his keyboard. “Thanks to Snart, I’ve been able to narrow down Mardon’s second safe-house to two possible locations- both of these houses have blue roofing.”

“How do we know which one it is?” Joe asks. “We can’t go bursting into a civilian’s home.”

“That’s where I had to think,” Harry continues. “And then Jesse had an idea.”

“Lisa said the roof _really_ stood out,” Jesse explains, twiddling her thumbs together. “Because of the proximity to the ocean and constant sunlight, roof tiles tend to weather a lot faster here than they would in the city. For the tiles to be such a vibrant blue, they would’ve had to have been painted or refurbished in the past two or three years.”

“There’s only one company specialising in roofing on this island,” Harry says. “I was able to… _acquire_ their transaction records, which I cross-referenced with a company order of over a hundred litres of _Sailor’s Delight_ bright blue premium roof paint. The address of the company’s client is here.”

“So, that’s the spot?” Joe looks impressed. A couple of years ago, he would have been flabbergasted at the thought of somebody having the ability- and the _nerve_ \- to hack into a company’s transaction records. Now he just thinks it’s highly convenient. And a bit cool.

“That’s the spot.”

Iris tucks her arm around Barry’s waist. “Now Bar’s all healed, we can plan Cisco’s rescue. Emphasis on the word _plan_.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco wakes up to a muffled shouting coming from downstairs. He rolls his head to the side and presses his ear against the carpet.

“Can’t stay here, Shawna!” That’s Mark.

“Lisa won’t tell them. She probably can’t remember where it is!” Shauna’s voice is harder to make out.

Another voice; it’s Nimbus. “The plane won’t be here until tonight. Have to hold out until then.”

“No, we’re going to trade Barry for Hartley’s life!”

The yelling dies down at the same time Hartley starts to stir. He sleeps curled up in a ball, Cisco notices, his legs tucked into his chest like a cat. Actually, now that he thinks about it, Hartley _does_ kind of remind him of a cat- Cisco’s _really_ had to work quite hard to earn his affection.

“What’s all that noise?” Hartley groans, stretching out his legs on the bed of clothes. “Tryin’ to sleep.”

Cisco watches him open his eyes, disoriented at first- he’d been the same, having expected to awake in the basement again. “I would’ve taken you for a morning person, Hart.”

“Yeah, well, no coffee will do that to you,” Hartley replies, sitting up and yawning. He looks at Cisco and his mouth twitches upwards. “You have a terrible case of bed hair.”

“Be quiet,” Cisco says, but he smiles too. “I can’t always look so damn hot.”

Hartley scoffs, tugging off his glasses and cleaning the lenses on his shirt. He slides them back on and adjusts his position, sitting cross-legged. Cisco mirrors him, but they don’t make eye contact- it’s impossible when Hartley won’t so much as look at him.

“How’s the shoulder?”

“It’s okay, I guess. Pretty stiff. Kept me awake for most of the night.”

“So…listen, about last night- “

“Hart.” Cisco watches the other man play with his shoelaces. “I need to know…I mean, I’m not the kind of guy who just- what I’m _trying_ to say is…” He drifts off, unsure of how to word it without offending him.

“That kiss meant a lot to me,” Hartley says, finally meeting Cisco’s eyes. “I wasn’t just caught up in the moment, or high on adrenaline. I’ve always been a bit of a dick to you- “

“A bit of a dick?” Cisco laughs. “Hart, you were _unbearable_ for two years!”

Hartley thinks back to the first day he met Cisco, wearing that ridiculous _Han Shot First_ shirt. It really riled him up, but not for the reason he’d let on. Maybe it’s time to finally tell Cisco the truth.

“Remember your first day at STAR Labs?”

“How could I forget? You ruined it for me.”

Hartley smirks. “The shirt you were wearing, there was a reason it got on my nerves so much.”

“You thought it was unprofessional,” Cisco provides, his coffee eyes twinkling. “So I wore it as often as I could.”

“That wasn’t why it annoyed me,” Hartley says. “It annoyed me because I have the exact same shirt…and Cisco, you _can’t_ fool me- I know it’s part of a Star Wars pyjama set! You wore _pyjamas_ to work!"

“In my defence,” Cisco huffs, falling into a fit of laughter, “it could totally pass as a regular t-shirt. I can’t believe you own it too!”

Hartley dissolves into a fit of giggles. “And the R2D2 slippers that came with it? They’re so comfortable! But, Cisco, as adorable as I thought you were, I couldn’t let you get away with wearing the same clothes you’d slept in to your first day of work at a billion-dollar company.”

The harder Hartley laughs, the more Cisco finds himself gasping for air. It jars his shoulder and burns his chest, but he hasn’t laughed like this in _days_ and, well, it’s just his personality. Make the best of a shitty situation, he supposes.

At least Hartley’s distracted from thinking about Mardon’s death threat.

 

* * *

 

 

“The comms should be working fine now,” Harry says, pulling his screwdriver from the lightning bolt at Barry’s ear. “The signal might still be a bit choppy, but I don’t have the time to fully correct it.” 

“What was wrong with them?” Joe asks.

“All of our communications are bounced off the STAR Labs satellite for security reasons,” Caitlin explains. “Here, we’re so far from the lab that we can’t utilise our satellite at all- we’re basically out of its range. When we tried to communicate via the comms system before, we couldn’t sustain a proper connection- hence why Wally could only hear static.”

“So, you’re using a closer satellite now?” Joe says.

“Something like that,” Harry says abruptly. “Now, let’s go over the plan again. We _cannot_ afford to make another mess. This might be our last chance to save Cisco.”

“And Hartley,” Barry says. “I’d still be locked in that basement if it wasn’t for him.”

Iris stands in front of Barry, holding his emblem in one of her delicate hands. “Here, Bar. Don’t forget this.” She places it on his chest and twists it into place.

“Okay,” Barry says, turning to Wally and Jesse. “I know we can do this. We’re stronger as a team, and the three of us _can_ take down the Rogues, as long of each of us is fighting someone we can _actually_ take down. As far as Lisa knows, Mardon hasn’t rigged the new house with any explosives or other weapons. My guess is that Hartley and Cisco are being kept together- easier for Mardon to maintain. The Rogues might be expecting us, but we can still use the element of surprise to our advantage. So, we’re all clear on the plan? Wally?”

“Yep,” Wally says, looking over the floorplans Harry had managed to pull from the area’s housing department. “We bust in simultaneously; I’m taking the back door, and I’ll be sweeping the floors until I find Nimbus.”

“Great,” Barry nods. “You’re an evasion strategist- keep him busy, and on the move. Jesse?”

“Following Wally. I’m taking Baez- hopefully I’ll be too quick for her to predict my movements.”

“Perfect,” Barry says. He stands a little straighter, a little more confident this time, knowing he’s got two more-than-capable speedsters at his side. “And I’m taking Mardon, phasing through the east wall into the dining room. Remember, our main objective is to locate Cisco and Hartley. If any of us happen to find them _before_ we find our meta, we alert the other two to our location and get them back here as _fast_ as we can. Other than that, we have to keep Mardon, Nimbus and Baez separated.”

Joe wraps Wally and Barry in a tight group hug. “I-I know this is dangerous, but I’m _so_ proud of both of you. Be careful. Look out for each other. I wish I could be there too.”

“I know, Joe, but it’s going to get messy,” Barry says, breaking from the hug and moving to embrace Iris. “Your gun won’t keep you safe- not where we’re going. Not to mention it’s going to be loud enough already _without_ gunshots terrifying the neighbourhood.”

Meanwhile, Harry takes Jesse by the shoulders and forces her to meet his eyes. He speaks softly, the most fatherly anyone in the room has ever heard him sound. “I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye, and I don’t always tell you when you’ve done a good job. But Jesse, I am _so proud of you_. In the past few months…I’ve watched you become a hero. Stay safe, my little Jesse Quick. Bring Ramon home.”

Joe pretends not to notice Harry’s eyes shimmering with unshed tears, because he knows his own are doing the same. He instead turns to watch Iris and Barry. The two of them, both so intelligent and kind…and Wally, still a kid, but _so_ determined to be a hero- he couldn’t be a prouder father.

Iris reaches up on her tiptoes and plants a slow, passionate kiss on Barry’s lips. He leans into her, his lean muscles and hard stomach pressing perfectly against her soft curves. They break apart and wrap their arms around each other, Barry’s hands combing her hair.

“Come back to me,” Iris murmurs, placing her hand on the back of his neck and bringing his forehead down to her own. “Promise me that much.”

“I promise Iris,” Barry says, leaning in for another peck. “For real this time.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lisa leans against the railing of the small balcony leading from the living room of the penthouse. The first tourists of the day are making their way down to the sand, tentatively dipping their toes into the still-cool water…enjoying their vacation, the same way Team Flash _should_ be. She pulls her dishevelled hair into a ponytail and closes her eyes. 

The guilt she feels at not being there with Hartley and Cisco…she doesn’t know how to feel, actually. If Jesse hadn’t brought her back here, Team Flash (ugh, now _she’s_ using the name) probably wouldn’t have been able to narrow down the location of the safe house. She should be proud to have helped.

Being here with these people, though, is way out of her comfort zone. As much as she despises Mardon and Nimbus (she can tolerate Shawna most of the time), it’s an environment she’s familiar with- every person for themselves. Being part of a team dynamic, it’s all new to her- at least, since Lenny left.

God, she misses him. Hopefully Mick’s keeping an eye on him. He slips into depression so easily, and she hates to think he has nobody to turn to.

The glass sliding door opens behind her and she hears the familiar click of high-heels approaching carefully. She already knows it’s Snow- here to berate her some more?

“I, um,” Snow says, her mouth opening and closing a few times. Lisa remembers when she used to be like that, bumbling and awkward, before Lenny taught her how to smooth-talk. “I want to thank you, Lisa. I know we might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot the first time we met, but…you’re not the criminal I thought you were. I’d like to apologise.”

“Apology accepted, Snow,” Lisa says. “I’m still a criminal, though. A damn good one.”

“Not today, you’re not. You’re basically the hero of the week. Also, unless you want me to call you _Snart_ , my name’s Caitlin. Snow was my father.”

“Okay, _Caitlin_ ,” Lisa smiles. She holds out her hand. “Truce?”

Caitlin takes her offering, shaking once. “Truce.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Can you get it off, though?” Cisco swallows compulsively as Hartley fiddles with the power-suppressor around his neck, his face taut with concentration. “I don’t want to have to wear it forever.”

“Don’t be overdramatic, _Cisquito_ ,” Hartley hums, nudging a lock of hair away from his hands. “I know it’s Morse code- I just need to figure out the code word.”

“The code word. It’d have to be something Mardon wouldn’t forget.”

Hartley nods. “And, knowing his twisted sense of humour, it’d be something that’d make him laugh. He had Shawna steal it from Eiling especially for you.”

“Try ‘Ramon’.”

Hartley hovers his thumb over the small red light and spells out _Ramon_. Nothing happens. He sighs and rocks back on his haunches.

Cisco runs his fingers over the metal thoughtfully. “What about ‘Francisco’? Or ‘Cisco’?”

Neither of the suggestions yield any results. He keys in another couple of words.

“What else did you try?” Cisco asks.

“ _Vibe_.”

Cisco frowns. “Yes?”

“No, I tried the _word_ Vibe. It didn’t work.”

“I can’t think of what else it might be,” Cisco says.

Hartley leans closer. “Cisco, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. It’ll come to us.”

“When we were on the beach,” Cisco says, “I vibed us kissing.”

Hartley chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “You vibed? But you were still wearing the collar- it should have supressed your powers.”

“The collar doesn’t supress powers entirely,” Cisco theorises. “Barry was still able to heal a bit faster than normal when he was wearing it. Maybe it still allows for passive abilities- “

“Like when you vibe without control,” Hartley interrupts. “Have you tried vibing with your goggles?”

Cisco nods, looking a bit dejected. “When you were asleep. Nothing happened, not when I actually _try_ to vibe.”

Cisco looks almost…ashamed. Hartley can’t help but knit his fingers with Cisco’s and tug him closer, placing a hand on the back of his neck. He feels a shudder run through the other’s body at the contact.

“None of this is your fault,” Hartley says.

“I know. It doesn’t make it any easier though.”

If their first kiss was amazing, then their second kiss downright turns Hartley _on_. It’s a little more desperate this time, a little more rushed. Cisco makes a little sound in the back of his throat, and Hartley finds himself climbing into Cisco’s lap and pressing chaste kisses to his face and neck. Cisco responds by running a warm hand up the back of Hartley’s jacket and shirt, kneading small circles into his skin. They continue like this for a while. It’s comfortable, and it just feels _right_.

Hartley carefully presses Cisco down to lay on the floor, climbing on top of him. He runs his fingers through Cisco’s hair in a steady rhythm, combing out small tangles and brushing it back neatly. He hears a sudden gasp and feels hands resisting against his shoulders. _Shit_. He always screws this kind of thing up.

“I-I’m sorry,” Hartley stammers, rolling off of Cisco.

Cisco instantly sits up and grabs his hand. “No, Hart, it’s not that. I just…”

“You just what?”

“I want us to explore each other when we’re ready,” Cisco explains slowly. “I don’t want any of this to happen whilst we’re hostages in a closet, you know?”

_Oh_. So he hadn’t screwed up. Good. He agrees, actually.

“No, I get it,” Hartley says.

“It’s just a shame we have to wait,” Cisco winks, his humour back in full swing.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s bigger than I thought it’d be,” Jesse whispers to Wally as they squat in the bushes behind the house, waiting for Barry to give them the signal through the comms.

“A bigger space will make it easier for us,” Wally says. “Hey, Jesse…I need to tell you something.”

“Hm?”

The way she looks over at Wally, her eyes wide and her cheeks rosy from the warm sun, sends a jolt of electricity through his nerves. After this, she’ll be leaving again, returning to Earth-2 to continue with her life, in much the same Wally will continue with his. For all intents and purposes, they shouldn’t exist to each other.

Why, then, is he so infatuated with her?

To his surprise, _she’s_ the one to make contact, quickly (but not so quick that he misses it) pressing her strawberry-flavoured lips against his own slightly parted mouth. She draws back and examines his face, brushing her fingers against his mask.

“I hope that’s what you were going to say,” she says shyly.

“It was,” Wally breathes.

He moves back in, but then Barry’s voice is crackling into both of their ears, hastily going over the plan and counting down from ten.

Wally squeezes Jesse’s hand.

_Nine. Eight._

“We can do this,” Wally says.

_Seven. Six._

“You can do this.”

_Five._

Wally lets go and cracks his knuckles, flexing his hands.

_Four._

He’s ready to land some goddamn _punches_.

_Three. Two._

He looks at Jesse one last time. She nods, rolling her shoulders back.

_One._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning (or afternoon/night, wherever you are), hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter. I apologise for the large amount of dubious comic-book science in this particular chapter (it made sense in my head!).
> 
> I really appreciate all the lovely comments you have been leaving, they inspire me to continue writing, and they validate my work, which is always welcomed as an amateur writer!
> 
> As per usual, please leave kudos, or a comment with your thoughts/predictions, if you're enjoying this story.
> 
> Have a lovely day/night :)


	15. Secret Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally, Jesse and Barry storm the Rogue's safe house in hopes of finally rescuing Hartley and Cisco.

A loud _bang_ and a whoosh of air sounding from downstairs startles Hartley to his feet. He raps his knuckles on the bathroom door frantically, glancing over his shoulder at the closet door.

“Cisco. _Cisco!_ Did you hear that?”

The bathroom door flies open and Cisco’s head appears from behind it. “Come on, Hart, can’t a bro pee in peace? I know we’re in close confines, but- “

Hartley shakes his head and flaps his hands in Cisco’s face. “I think it’s Barry!”

“What?!”

The toilet flushes and the sink runs for a few seconds, and then Cisco and Hartley are laying on the ground, side by side, with their ears pressed into the carpet. If he wasn’t so excited, Hartley would be embarrassed at how silly they look, like children playing a game. If _only_ it were a game.

_Wood splintering, the sound of ice shattering to the ground. Baez shrieking, someone swearing loudly. A person impacting against a wall._

_Come on_ , Hartley thinks. He returns to his feet and helps Cisco up. Cisco turns to say something, but he never does. Instead, his eyes are vacant, as if staring right through Hartley. He checks behind him, then quickly realises Cisco must be vibing. _Not the best time!_

Should he try to shake him out of it? Is it safe to? Or should he treat him like a sleepwalker- let him return to consciousness of his own accord? He doesn’t have to wonder for long, because Cisco slumps forward into his arms, panting loudly.

“What did you see?”

Cisco slowly looks up, his hands tightly grasping Hartley’s crumpled sleeves. His eyes are shiny- _oh no. Something’s gone wrong_. He steels himself, holds his breath, wonders if Cisco saw him die. Wonders if Mardon _does_ kill him.

But then, Cisco’s mouth curves into a watery smile. “I can’t believe it. It’s happening.”

“What’s happening?’ Hartley urges. “Cisco, tell me!”

“It’s Barry. He _is_ here, with Wally and Jesse, and they’re going to save us. I just _saw_ them save us. It’s over.”

Hartley smiles and feels his own eyes start to prickle. He pulls Cisco into a heartfelt embrace, ignoring the violent sounds making their way from downstairs. If he’s relieved, he can’t even imagine how Cisco feels. For all he knew, he’d never be free again.

He owes Barry a round of drinks. The kind of drinks that will actually make him drunk.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mardon!”

Jesse hears Barry scream as he bursts through the wall at the same time she darts inside behind Wally. She immediately turns to the left, finding Baez the only thing on her mind. The room is clear, so she moves to the next. From somewhere deeper in the house, she hears the sounds of a scuffle, shouting, but she forces herself to stick to the plan.

The next room she finds herself in is the kitchen. Nimbus is behind the island bench- he whirls around when she enters, tossing a steak knife in her direction. She easily evades it and starts towards him – _no, Jesse, find Baez_ \- then turns and dashes into the next room. Pressing her hand to her comms system, she alerts Wally to Nimbus’s location.

“Hey, Girl Flash!”

Jesse spins to her right, but it’s as though the voice has appeared from thin air. It must be Baez taunting her.

“Not fast enough!”

Baez materialises in front of Jesse and lands a solid punch to the side of her face. The impact twists her head painfully to the side, but she’s sharp and pumped full of adrenaline- she barely feels it. The world seems to spin slower on its axis as she turns in a circle around the room, spotting Shawna reappearing near the window.

_Oh, no you don’t!_

Before Baez can react, Jesse has launched herself across the room and tackled her to the ground. She pulls her weapons of choice from her boot- a shabbily-constructed blindfold, made by her father in about three minutes, and a couple of black zip-ties - and secures the material to Baez’s face, prohibiting her from teleporting. Her hands scrabbling for traction, Baez tries to claw at her face to remove the blindfold, but Jesse is ready. She flips Baez over and straddles the criminal’s body, scrambling for a hold on her wrists

Baez bucks wildly and Jesse is thrown sideways onto the floor. She flips over at lightning-speed to see Shawna pulling off the blindfold and stuffing it into her pocket. _Dammit_. Jesse winds up her fist and darts forward to pummel the meta square in the face, expecting her to vanish or at least dodge her blow. She brings her tightly curled fist within an inch of her face, then stops. Shawna flinches back, but doesn’t move.

Jesse should take this opportunity to incapacitate Baez, but she finds herself taking a step back. Baez nervously glances at the ceiling then back at Jesse, her dark eyes wide, as if realising something terrible.

“What?” Jesse demands, shifting into the close-combat stance Oliver Queen had taught her during one of their rare training sessions (she’s heard horror stories from Barry, but Oliver had been nothing but gentle and accommodating towards her). “Baez, if you’re trying to trick me- “

“Mark- if he’s alone with Hartley…” Shawna trails off, shaking her head. “He wants to trade Hartley’s life for Barry.”

Even if Jesse doesn’t know Hartley very well, she _does_ know that he’s the reason Barry is back in action and fighting alongside her and Wally. It’s good enough by her standards. “Barry’s after Mardon right now. Wait, why do you care about Hartley?”

“Hartley’s my friend,” Baez says quickly. “Mark’s my boyfriend, but I still look out for my friends.”

Barry shouts something from upstairs, and there is a shattering of glass- or maybe it’s ice. Baez vanishes into the next room, making her way towards the staircase, and Jesse is hot on her tail- not after her this time, but after Mardon.

 

* * *

 

Wally’s comms system comes to life as Jesse relays Nimbus’s location. He makes a one-eighty turn and blasts into the kitchen in a show of golden lightning. Nimbus sends him an eerie grin before dissipating into a noxious cloud and filtering towards him. 

Wally tucks his nose and mouth into the crook of his elbow and dodges out of the room. Nimbus follows, as he had hoped, and he zips around the house, using its size to his advantage. Nimbus, although being a rather successful career criminal, comes across as quite simple, Wally thinks. It’s the third time a speedster has used this technique of destabilising his mist form, and he’s falling for it _yet again_. Not that he’s complaining, of course.

As he’s running, Wally knocks one of his boots against the other, just to check that his secret weapon is still in place. Nimbus is slowing down, trailing further and further behind. Wally also slows down to compensate, not wanting to lose track of the man. Nimbus reverts back to human form and lets out a roar of anger. Now’s his chance.

Wally rushes Nimbus, his fist outstretched and crackling with lightning. He’s about to land the punch when- _damn it!_ – his body smashes into the wall. He’s dazed for a split second.

“Thought speed was your thing,” Nimbus says from behind him. Wally whirls around in time to narrowly avoid the green spirals attempting to make their way into his airways.

“It is,” Wally shouts over his shoulder as he ducks away, resuming their cat-and-mouse game. “And I’m faster than you, Nimbus! Try and catch me!”

Nimbus growls and explodes into pale green, worming his way through the house once again. Wally lets him get close a couple of times, but he _knows_ he’s faster. Eventually, Nimbus stutters to a halt again, reforming into a human, his hands pressed against his knees as he pants for a breath. Wally approaches him- _cautiously_ this time- and throws his fist out again. Nimbus catches his hand, but Wally is one of the fastest men alive. He ploughs his other hand into Nimbus’s abdomen, kicks him to his knees, and lands another kick to his temple.

Oops. A bit too hard. Well, he’s unconscious now either way, and if Caitlin’s right, he won’t be waking up anytime soon, with all of his energy expended. Wally secures his hands behind his back with black zip ties, just to be extra cautious- even if he _does_ wake up, he won’t be able to revert into his gas form for a few hours at least.

Wally gives himself ten seconds to catch his breath. Maybe he’ll have to challenge Jesse to another race, because he thinks he might’ve just gotten a whole lot faster.

 

* * *

 

 

Barry phases through the wall, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Mardon! Come out and face me, you _asshole_!" 

He calls upon the speedforce, as powerful as ever, and begins his sprint around the house, a wake of destruction in his path. He’s absolutely _furious_ , and he can’t wait to give Mardon a piece of his mind.

Or, more aptly, a piece of his fist.

He searches the first floor, avoiding Wally and Jesse as they take on their respective metas, and when his search comes up fruitless, he locates the basement door and kicks it open. It’s dark and smells suspiciously like the other basement he’d been kept in (an off-putting mixture of metal and old water), but there’s no sign of either of his friends.

_Upstairs, then_ , Barry thinks to himself, running so fast he’s sure he’s flying. He makes his way to the second floor and ducks in and out of rooms, until he reaches the last possible place Mardon could be hiding. He considers trying to sneak in and surprise the villain, but he probably already knows Barry is here, so there’s no point in being discreet.

Barry crashes through the door and instantly feels something hard and wet connect with his stomach. He flies back into the hallway, scrambles to his feet, and ducks behind a wall, doubling over and groaning at the impact.

“Hiding like the coward you are,” Barry spits. “Too scared to fight me, Weather Wizard?”

Barry feels a gust of wind rush past him. It stings his eyes and dries his mouth. He runs a hand over his left boot, feeling the lump inside. This had better work. He braces himself and flashes back into the room, circling around it quickly this time and coming to a stop behind Mardon.

Barry throws his foot out and catches Mardon square in the back. The man stumbles and connects with the wall. Barry follows him and attacks him as fast as he can, landing punches all over the man at super-speed. It’s almost too easy.

Ah, there it is. Barry feels a pain that shouldn’t be so familiar. His limbs seize up and he drops like a stone, fireworks dancing across his blackened vision. He tries to move, tries to roll away, but his body doesn’t seem to want to play nice. Mardon must be enjoying an adrenaline spike, as he’s barely slowed down by Barry’s assault.

Barry watches through an agonising fog of pain as Mardon pushes a tall wardrobe along the right wall of the bedroom, revealing a dead-bolted door. He fumbles a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, kicking it open. From where he’s fallen, Barry can’t see into what he assumes is a closet, but a startled yell that sounds suspiciously like Cisco drives him to crawl to his hands and knees.

Mardon re-emerges with his hand around the scruff of Hartley’s neck. Cisco is close behind him, but not so close as to put himself in the immediate wake of Mardon’s powers. He hovers near the closet doorframe, eyes darting desperately between where Barry is struggling to get to his feet, and where Mardon has forced Hartley to his knees.

“Flash…I’m disappointed,” Mardon sneers. “I’d heard you’d gotten faster. I was expecting more of a challenge, especially with the life of your friend hanging in the balance.” He gives Hartley a rough shake to prove his point.

“What do you want from me?”  Barry grinds out.

Mardon gestures to Cisco, who hasn’t moved from the door. “Vibe let me in on a little secret. He can open a breech to another Earth, but I need a speedster to propel me through.”

Barry glances at Cisco, who stares at the floor. “We aren’t your pawns. Let Hartley go, or- “

“You’re in no state to be making threats. Either you come with me, or Rathaway dies a painful death.”

 

* * *

 

 

Wally reaches the staircase in time to see Jesse’s lightning trail disappear at the top. He follows her into a bedroom, where a shocking scene is set out before them.

Mardon’s swapped his powers out in favour of a knife, which he has pressed against Hartley’s throat. Barry is on his hands and knees, yelling at Mardon, whilst Cisco watches on with horror. Baez is…on their side apparently, standing beside Jesse.

“Mark, don’t,” Baez says carefully, stepping forward with her hand out in a placating gesture. “Please. Let Hartley go, it’s not worth it.”

“Another traitor,” Mardon growls. “Step away, Shawna. I’ll let him go when I have the Flash _and_ Vibe.”

“You can’t take all of us on,” Wally says, puffing his chest out. “Give up- let him go.”

The room swiftly erupts into chaos. Wally rushes forward towards Barry, and from the corner of his eye sees Jesse collide with Mardon, scrabbling for the knife. Mardon stumbles back, maintaining a hold on Hartley. He presses the knife closer to his throat as Jesse reaches for it, causing a thin line of red to dribble onto Hartley’s shirt.

“No!” Shawna yells, dematerialising and then reappearing behind Mardon. “Mark, don’t do this! It’s not worth Hartley’s life!”

Hartley closes his eyes. For the second time in as many days, he’s come to terms with the premise of death.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco yanks at the collar around his neck as Mardon faces off against the others. If he could just get this _damn_ piece of metal off, he could join the fight and save Hartley, he’s _sure_ of it. 

_Think, Cisco,_ think _! What’s the code?_

He runs through words in his mind, coding them onto the red light as fast as he can. It could be anything- _Mardon, Baez, Diamond, Vibe_ (again) _, Mark, Weather, Wizard…_

The collar clicks open and falls into Cisco’s hand. He looks at it in awe. _Wizard_ , of course! Of course Mardon would program it with something like that. He mentally high-fives himself for having brushed up on his Morse code recently. Cisco reaches into his pocket and slaps his goggles onto his face, an immediate sensation of total power surging through every nerve in his body, prickling and sparking, making him feel _alive_.

It happens quickly, but Cisco is so attuned to what’s going on that, for him, it happens in slow motion. Mardon starts to pull the knife across Hartley’s throat. Barry shouts obscenities, Wally gasps and starts forward, Jesse cries out, and Shawna screams, pulling at Mardon’s arm.

Cisco pulls his hands back and launches a barrage of energy directly at Mardon, catching him across the face and chest and propelling him across the room. The knife lands silently on the carpet. Hartley slumps onto his hands and knees, panting, clutching at his neck.

“Hart! No, no…” Cisco rushes forward and falls to his knees beside Hartley, pulling his hands away to inspect his wound. It’s remarkably shallow- Cisco had been too quick for Mardon to carry through with the killing.

“I’m okay,” Hartley says, pushing his glasses up with a shaky hand. “Cisco, I’m okay. It’s over.”

They fall into a tired hug, the rest of the room looking on with a mixture of relief and curiosity.

“Wally,” Barry gasps, reaching out for a hand. “Help me up.”

“I’m kinda digging this whole teamwork thing,” Wally says, crouching beside Barry and helping him to his feet.

Jesse’s beside Wally all of a sudden, a smear of blood across her face. “We actually did it!”

“Cisco did it,” Hartley says proudly.

Barry reaches down to his boot and digs out _his_ secret weapon. “Here’s the collar.”

Wally snaps the collar around Mardon’s neck and sets the code. It’s the collar Barry had removed from himself earlier, the one Hartley had been working on, except it actually _is_ a power suppressor now, thanks to Caitlin’s quick thinking and Harry’s quick work. Harry had been about eighty percent sure it’d work, and Wally can now guarantee that’s a strong one hundred percent.

“Here,” Cisco says, tossing his collar to Wally. “Put this one on Nimbus.”

Jesse follows Wally downstairs to secure Nimbus. Wally attaches the collar and turns to Jesse. He takes her hand and smiles.

“You were awesome today,” he says, peeling off her mask and removing his own. “I think we could do a lot of good together. You know, as a team."

“Like, Team Kid Flash?” Jesse quips. She takes his face in her hands and kisses him. A spark of electricity jumps between their lips as they pull away from each other, causing Jesse to laugh.

“We should let the rest of the team know we’re all safe,” Wally says, looping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a side-hug.

“Dad, we did it,” Jesse says into her comms system, grinning up at Wally. “We took out the Rogues. Hartley and Cisco are safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, how was that season premiere?! Now we have to wait a whole week for the next episode- totally worth it, though.
> 
> I'm not sure if I'm 100% happy with this chapter, but I've tweaked it several times and I think it's as good as it's going to get. I have two more chapters written, which will be uploaded daily as per usual; I was going to make the story longer, but I'm really happy with the ending, so I think I'll keep it that length.
> 
> I have, though, started planning a second story (I'm going to be expanding this into a series)! If anyone has any requests or ideas for villains, feel free to message me at my [tumblr](http://emirrii.tumblr.com) and I will try to incorporate them!
> 
> As always, thank you for all the support and be sure to leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> Have a lovely day/night. :)


	16. Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally safe, Hartley and Cisco begin to heal and discuss their relationship.

 “The Rogues are all packed up,” Joe says, tucking his phone into his pocket as he strides into the apartment. “They’re on their way to Lian Yu, courtesy of the Palmer Tech private aircraft. Apart from Baez, of course- she’ll be secured in Iron Heights. I’ll pull some strings once we get back to get her moved to the Pipeline.”

“Thank god,” Cisco moans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “I never want to see them _ever_ again.”

Barry reaches over and claps Cisco on the back. “And you won’t, man. They aren’t our problem anymore. Shawna, though…I really think she’s done with the whole criminal boyfriend preoccupation. She might be the first villain we actually rehabilitate.” He purposefully neglects to mention Hartley, even after what had happened in the alternate timeline.

Iris carries two mugs of coffee over and sets them on top of the coffee table in front of where Cisco and Hartley are sitting on the couch. Hartley takes a long, grateful sip, not minding that the instant coffee is ridiculously bitter.

“It’ll take a while to feel normal again,” Caitlin says as she finishes palpitating Cisco’s shoulder and slipping his arm into a sling. “I’m impressed at your limb relocation skills, Hartley. I’ll make a doctor out of you yet.”

Hartley smiles at her pleasant expression. He quietly slips a hand, concealed by the mound of blankets piled on both of them, onto Cisco’s knee and gives it a squeeze. It feels nice to have Team Flash treating him with such dignity- he’ll have to make a conscious effort to be kinder to them.

Not that it will be hard with Cisco around to keep him in check.

“You’re not in any pain?” Caitlin asks, moving over to crouch in front of Hartley and adjust the small bandage she’d taped to his neck earlier. The cut had been too shallow to need any real medical care, but Caitlin had insisted on patching it up anyways, as her own personal ‘thank you’.

Hartley shakes his head. “It stings a bit, but it’s really nothing to worry about. Just a scratch.”

“A bit more than a scratch,” Caitlin murmurs, but she disappears into the bathroom to clean her hands.

Barry makes his way over and drops down next to Cisco at the end of the couch. He props his face up with his hands, elbows resting on his knees, and eyes them with an intrigued expression. Cisco can tell he senses something more than friendship between him and Hartley.

“It’s a good thing you two had each other,” he says, obviously implying something; he’s never been one to act subtle. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

Hartley resists the urge to roll his eyes. “We, uh…make a good team.”

“A great team,” Cisco agrees. He gives Barry a look. “I know you know, and if you say _anything_ to the others…”

Barry holds his hands up. “Whoa, okay, all good. I’ll let you guys work it out.”

“Thank you, Barry,” Hartley says, trying to sound as earnest as possible. If Cisco wants to pursue this as badly as he does, he needs to be in Barry’s good books. Not that being friends with the Flash is the worst idea in the world. He’s actually not a bad guy.

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” Hartley says, with as much nonchalance as he can muster, “I guess this is us working it out.”

Cisco leans into Hartley. “We don’t need to work anything out. There’s no problem here." 

Hartley smiles. They’ve been free for a whole day, and it’s the first chance they’ve had to talk without Caitlin, Iris, or Barry waiting on them hand and foot. They’re currently standing on the apartment balcony- finally able to enjoy their vacation. Joe had been hesitant for them to stay on the island, but he’d been outvoted by everyone. Barry especially had insisted that they actually _did_ deserve a break now, and they might as well get Harry’s money’s worth out of the resort.

“You know,” Hartley says, “I don’t like to put a label on things- it’s never worked out for me. I label myself as a somewhat dubious criminal; Mardon takes me and exploits me. You call me a hero; we end up getting captured again.” He frowns and looks out over the ocean. “I come out as gay, my parents disown me.”

“Your parents are assholes,” Cisco says, linking hands with him. “Forget about them. And, you’re not a criminal anymore. I don’t care what you think. You’re a hero. My hero.”

Hartley scoffs. “When did you become so cheesy, Ramon?”

Cisco smiles slyly and leans forward to press a peck to his nose. “Is it too cheesy to ask you to be my boyfriend? Or is that a label you don’t want to bear?”

“Call me your partner, and we’ll call it even,” Hartley says, feigning disinterest as he inspects the nails on his free hand. “As long as you stop acting so sappy.”

* * *

 

 

“Oh, Hartley!” Lisa calls out in a sing-song voice. “Look what I’ve found!”

Hartley looks up from where he’s reading his book on the couch to see Lisa walk in with her hands behind her back, clearly carrying something. “You brought me a present?”

“The best gift you’ll ever get,” Lisa smiles. She presents him with…his gloves!

“Where did you find them?” Hartley is on his feet in an instant, snatching the gloves and inspecting them closely. They’re a bit roughed up, but it’s nothing he- or Cisco- can’t fix. “I thought they were gone.”

“They were in the second safe house,” Lisa explains. “I went back with Barry to tidy up before the owners returned home- apparently they’re overseas. I found my gun-” she gestures to where the golden gun is secured tightly to her hip- “and your gloves, they were down in the basement in a backpack. I think Mardon was planning on keeping them for himself.”

“Asshole,” Hartley mutters, but he smiles anyway. “Thanks, Lise. You’re the best.”

“It’s what I do.”

She turns to leave when Hartley decides to broach the subject. “Hey, Lisa…about Cisco. I know you had a bit of a thing for him- “

“Don’t start,” Lisa says. She comes back over and sits next to him, her hand resting on his shoulder. He wonders if this is what it feels like to have a family again. “Cisco and I, we were just messing around. Sure, I think he’s cute. I think you’re cute too. You probably know we kissed.” She sighs. “Cisco’s too young for me, Hartley, and _you_ know he’s not exactly my type. He’s too smart, too good…too much of a hero. It’d be a shame for you two to let this go.”

“I think he’s going to change me,” Hartley says. “He’s going to make me a better person.”

“You’re already a good person,” Lisa says, standing to leave once again. “Don’t forget it. Without you, Cisco would still be Mardon’s toy.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hartley, huh?” Caitlin says casually as she performs an exam on Cisco’s shoulder, which is slowly but surely starting to feel a bit more mobile. “I never would have guessed it.”

“Why not?” Cisco responds a bit too sharply. “Because he’s a guy?”

Caitlin holds up her hands. “Whoa, Cisco, that’s not what I meant. I know you’re bisexual, remember? You told me, like three years ago. I just meant…well, I thought you hated each other.”

“We did,” Cisco sighs. “Sorry, Cait, I’m just a bit…paranoid, I guess? I know it’s only been a few days, but I’ve seen a side of Hartley that he doesn’t expose to many people. He really does care, Cait, he’s sweet and thoughtful and willing to put his life on the line for others.” He lowers his voice and looks at his hands. “He’s been my anchor. If he wasn’t here, I think I’d be freaking out, like, massively.”

“Understandably,” Caitlin softens up. She always melts like butter where her surrogate brother is concerned. “Cisco, you’re allowed to be anxious and upset. You were kidnapped, _tortured_. Forced to do things you didn’t want to. You’re actually taking it remarkably well.”

“Yeah. You’re not angry, though? About Hartley, I mean.”

Caitlin scoffs. “No. Someone who makes you feel safe and protected could never make me angry. I’m behind you one-hundred percent.”

 

* * *

 

 

After a few days of recuperation, Hartley and Cisco accompany the rest of Team Flash (plus Lisa) down to the beach. Hartley has to hold back a giggle when Cisco pulls his towel from his waist to reveal _another_ pair of Flash-themed swim trunks. 

“How many pairs does he own?” Hartley asks Barry, who looks just as amused. “I can’t believe he owns his best friend’s merch.”

“Dude, I designed Barry’s suit _and_ the Flash symbol,” Cisco says indignantly. “I should be making royalties on this stuff, or at _least_ getting it for free.”

Iris wraps her arms around Barry’s waist and shoots Hartley a dazzlingly white smile. He can’t help but notice how good they look together as they race down to the water with Wally and Jesse, splashing in the calm water. Barry hoists Iris up onto his shoulders and Wally does the same with Jesse, the two girls sparring with long sticks of driftwood they’d collected from the beach.

“Don’t worry,” Hartley says to Cisco, laying down his towel and stretching out on top of it, his body white with too much sunscreen. “We’ll be doing that soon enough.”

Cisco joins him on the beach towel, picking at the sling around his arm and shoulder. “Probably not for a couple of weeks, at least.”

Hartley watches as Lisa and Caitlin wander off down the beach towards a pop-up ice-cream stand, chatting animatedly. Harry is standing with his feet in the water, not-so-subtly watching Jesse and Wally, and Joe is off snorkelling to the right, apparently obsessed with the sport. Never one to enjoy a crowd, or to encourage PDA, Hartley feels private enough now to roll over and press a long kiss to the top of Cisco’s warm hair.

“Remember how you said you never wanted to look at your goggles again, after Mardon basically ruined them for you?”

Cisco nods, his eyes closed blissfully against the bright midday sun. He tries to mask a shudder, but Hartley catches it anyway. “I can’t stand the sight of them now.”

Hartley removes the goggles from the large shoulder bag Lisa had brought with her. He nudges Cisco and presses them into his hand.

“Oh my…Hartley, you did this?” Cisco beams, turning them over in his hands and running his fingers along the frames. “I can’t believe it.”

The night before, Hartley had taken Cisco’s goggles after he’d fallen asleep, and completely revamped them. They now lit up with a combination of pale and bright green, the frames a dark metallic blue. The actual lenses reflect eerily, and on the side, the word _Vibe_ has been delicately etched out and filled in with a brilliant gold. Hartley really hopes Cisco likes them.

  
“They’re amazing. Seriously, I can’t even comprehend how awesome they look.” 

“I’m glad you like them.”

Cisco hands them back to Hartley, who returns them to the bag. “I’m glad you got your gloves back, too. You’ll be needing them, especially now that you’re an honorary member of Team Flash, and the sole leader of the Cisco Ramon Defence Squad.”

Hartley laughs heartily, something he supposes he’ll have to get used to being around Cisco more often. “I like that.”

And he does. He likes that he’s part of a team (a team of _good guys_ , that is). He likes that he’ll be spending his days at STAR Lab, and his nights at Cisco’s apartment; he can’t wait to find out if Cisco’s walls are spattered with Star Wars and X-Files posters, like he imagines. He likes that Caitlin and Lisa seem to be finally getting along- maybe Lisa will join them too.

Hartley likes that Barry and Iris are together again and so in love, and that Wally and Jesse are so perfectly suited for each other. He especially likes that he overheard Harry telling Joe that he and Jesse might stay on Earth-1 for a bit longer.

The thing that Hartley likes the most, though, is that he’s sitting on a magnificent tropical beach without a care in the world, with Cisco Ramon safe and smiling at his side.

He’s already started planning their next vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last *official* chapter of this pic, though there will be one more chapter added as a sort of 'bonus chapter/segue into the next story'. Once again, if anyone has any requests for the sequel, feel free to message me on my [tumblr](http://emirrii.tumblr.com) or leave a comment below.
> 
> As always, thank you for all your awesome support; it's been an absolute blast writing and posting my first fanfic. If you enjoyed, please leave a comment or kudos, and stay tuned for the last chapter tomorrow!
> 
> Have a lovely day/night! :)


	17. Team Players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hartley's suspicions about Cisco's apartment are confirmed, and Caitlin assigns them their first job with Hartley a part of the team.

“So, let me get this straight,” Hartley says, turning in a slow circle as he takes in the apartment. “This is a one-bedroom apartment.” 

Cisco takes a bite of his twizzler, kicking his heels loudly against the side of the kitchen bench he’s perched upon. “Yep.”

“Well, why is your bed in the living room?”

Cisco winks. “Aha! I thought you’d never ask.”

The engineer leaps from the bench and gestures for Hartley to follow him. He opens the door to what _should_ be his bedroom, but is instead…oh, god, Hartley was right. He’d suspected this, and he was _totally right_.

The walls of the room are spattered with an almost offensive amount of film posters, as well as newspaper clippings with titles like ' _Call him Vibe_ '. Shelves jut out left, right and centre, neatly adorned with action figures and collectables. A long, low bookcase holds what must be _hundreds_ of comic books and graphic novels. Looking closer, Hartley can see that they’re organised firstly by series, and then by the issue number. A gaming rig sits in the corner with a bean-bag thrown haphazardly beside it.

“Oh, god.” Hartley has to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing.

“This room is worth more than the rest of my apartment combined,” Cisco says, waving his hand out in a grand gesture. “It’s my pride and joy. Apart from, you know, the obvious.”

As Hartley enters the room and turns to look back at Cisco, he notices a long desk next to the door, cluttered with an organised chaos of mechanical parts and sheets of paper. He picks up one of the papers; it’s a concept design for an upgraded Vibe suit. The costume is, for the most part, coloured black. He runs his eyes over the neat stitching, the way that hints of red and yellow have been so effortlessly wound into the immaculate design. The goggles are drawn next to the suit in detail; Hartley smiles as he recognises his design.

He frowns, though, when he sees the hands are bare, with barely-legible writing surrounding them. He doesn’t bother trying to read it.

“What, no gloves?” Hartley asks. “You should consider wearing gloves. I do, Barry does, Wally and Jesse do…”

Cisco huffs out a breath and combs his hands through his hair, settling them on the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m working on it.”

“Gloves aren’t that hard to make.”

“These aren’t regular gloves,” Cisco frowns. “I’m working on a way to hone my sonic blasts. They’re a bit unpredictable- a _lot_ unpredictable, actually. I’m worried I’ll take someone’s head off.”

Hartley runs Cisco’s idea through his head for a moment, before smiling. “Well,” he says, winking because he’s feeling especially sassy, “vibrations are my specialty.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Close your eyes, Cisco. No- I mean it, close your eyes!”

Cisco sighs melodramatically. “Come on, Hart, I’ve already seen them- I _built_ them!”

“No, _we_ built them, and I added a tiny modification that I want to be a surprise.”

“Fine.” Cisco closes his eyes tight and holds out his hands, wiggling his fingers like a child reaching for candy. “Gimme.”

Hartley pulls the gloves from behind his back and places one in each of Cisco’s hands. Cisco opens his eyes and turns them over, inspecting them carefully.

“They don’t _look_ any different,” Cisco says thoughtfully. “How did you modify them?”

“Put them on,” Hartley encourages. “Then you’ll see.”

Cisco shrugs and slips his hands into the gloves. They fit perfectly and aren’t too clunky; he can still move his fingers freely, given that they’re fingerless. He holds up his hands and gasps when each of the palms light up with a luminescent blue ring. He’s not sure how Hartley managed to do it, but the blue matches the colour of his vibes perfectly.

“Just something small,” Hartley says nonchalantly. “I thought it’d make you look cooler- I mean, you need it.”

Cisco grins and scurries off to one of the unused rooms in the STAR Labs basement he’d claimed as the ‘Vibe Training Facility’. Hartley follows. Both of them are breathing heavily by the time they reach their destination- maybe they should be making their way towards Barry’s treadmill instead.

“Okay,” Cisco puffs. “Stand back. Remember what happened last time- “

“I don’t _want_ to remember what happened last time,” Hartley cuts in, but his eyes are crinkling at the edges nevertheless. “Alright, give them a shot.”

Cisco holds his right hand out in front of him and slips his goggles down over his eyes with his left. The palm of the glove lights up, and then a sonic beam spirals effortlessly from it, coloured with brilliant spirals of blue. The blast hits a wall of cardboard boxes and foam packing peanuts fly in every direction.  Cisco woops loudly, the gleeful sound echoing through the otherwise empty room.

“They finally work!” Cisco gushes, pulling the gloves off. “And my hands aren’t even sweaty! And, wow, Hart! I mean, I thought the palms lighting up were cool- and then, you somehow configured the gloves to turn my blasts _blue_? You’re a genius.”

Hartley tries to keep his beaming to a minimum, but he really is quite chuffed- there’d been no way for him to tell if the blue beams would actually work. “That’s what they call me.”

Cisco sidles up to Hartley and throws an arm around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. They stand like that for…well, how long doesn’t matter. Hartley whips away from the caress sharply when Caitlin’s voice booms over the intercom.

“Cisco, Hartley, I need you two up here in the cortex, suited up. Let’s test out those new gloves.”

Hartley weaves his fingers between Cisco’s and pulls him along the STAR corridors. They’re suited up and standing behind the cortex computer monitors in a matter of minutes, peering curiously over Caitlin’s shoulders as she zooms in on a satellite view of Central City.

“There’s a siege on the corner of Mason and Fifth. Barry’s busy in Keystone, so you’ll have to take this guy down on your own,” Caitlin says, spinning in her chair to face the two heroes. “Bring him back in one piece, Hartley.”

“I promise,” Hartley says, nodding to Caitlin. He reaches behind himself and pulls up his hood, obscuring his smirk. “Ready to take down some metas, Vibe?”

Cisco pulls his gloves back on and adjusts his goggles over his eyes. “Hell yeah I’m ready, Piper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only short, it's more of a snippet to show that Hartley is now a part of Team Flash in terms of *taking down bad guys*, but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. I just felt like writing something tooth-rottingly fluffy. Thanks to the people who've sent me ideas or requests for the sequel, they're all fantastic and I'm excited to incorporate them!
> 
> Once again, I'm absolutely overwhelmed with everyone's lovely comments and awesome support. I was so anxious to post my first pic, but now that I'm more confident I'll be writing a *lot* more. Stay tuned for the sequel, hopefully coming sometime next week!
> 
> Have a lovely day/night! <3


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